Garden of Gravel
by KK Lemon
Summary: In a world where animals grow into monsters, pest control is a dangerous business. The Exterminator's latest job seemed simple enough, but he'd learned not to underestimate the signs. A battle for survival between man and beast loomed. Death was in the air. [Dark original]
1. Walls

The Exterminator was on his way to a job.

It seemed to be a small-time job, the latest in his breadwinning streak. A horde of Graveler encroaching on human territory, a village in the shade of the western Lapis range. Reports of mayhem, blocked roads, possible assault. All of this being very much par for the course. Half-intelligent beings had a nasty habit of reclaiming their territory once they discovered they could drive the humans back.

These job listings were funny things. Often enough, if you took out the names of the overpopulated creatures, you'd get the impression the given area was being overtaken by revolutionary brigades. The fact that the Union branch who connected clients with freelance Regulators such as himself often abbreviated job descriptions to "animal terrorism" did not help. Snarky analogies aside, this job stank of routine. He'd spent his fair share of time in this business and had something of a name to back it up.

The valley opened up ahead of him. Through the dusty front window of his power van, he saw the city spread out in the basin below. The central cluster of old town buildings clung to the river Avard, while the newer buildings stretched out over the vast bulky terrain. The city of Balder.

Along these grassy outskirts, the Exterminator located Balder's modern and decently-sized Ranger Outpost. Every Exterminator needs a partner and the Rangers are the ones who can transport your "partners" where you need them. For a fee, of course. He went straight to the back of the building - the Depot - where he knew the tamers would be waiting for him. They showed him to a reinforced metal stall. The Exterminator unhooked the guard shutters and the door clanged open. His "partner" shut its eyes, blinded by morning light. Its heavy body wobbled to the corner on short, stubby legs.

"Golem," the Exterminator cooed gently, opening his arms and stepping back to give the creature space. It recognized the voice of its master, rasping in elation, then tottered out of its cage.

Light revealed its rugged skin made of rock. Around 1.3 meters off the ground, from its flat, sharp feet, a head no larger than two fists protruded from the creature's massive boulder of a body. Its red eyes glistened with excitement, having been called on by its master.

The Exterminator smiled slightly, clicked his tongue. He left for the truck and Golem trundled on behind. He opened the back doors of the van and the creature obediently climbed inside. Five minutes later, the exhaust pipe on his power van fumed black smoke. The van jolted twice, then sped off, leaving Balder behind for good.

A sign read "Garden, 19km" halfway from the valley to his destination. Golem sat back in tow, looking anxiously out the window. The Exterminator dragged on his cigarette and blew a puff of smoke through the window.

The winding macadam road was surrounded by dense forest. It was a Ranger's job to make sure forests like these were maintained and wildlife population kept in check, but things sometimes slipped through the cracks. Hard to complain, that's where his business came from.

He hit the brakes, nearly sending Golem sprawling. Opening the door, he stepped outside his little van. The river Avard stretched far and away to the left of the road. A sheer cliff jutted to the right. In between...

He crushed his cigarette under heel.

A large mass of fallen rock and scree blocked the way, adjoining the cliff. Taller than himself at its lowest. It was an impasse.

"Ahoy," a man in a yellow fluorescent vest and industrial work boots cheered. He was perched atop a boulder, next to a grit caked loader. "You on your way to the Lapis, friend?"

"Not exactly. But I do need to get through," said the Exterminator.

"Afraid you're outta luck there. There's been some quakes, rustled up these damned cliffs," he surveyed the wall of gravel with one strong arm. "Well, you can see for yourself."

The claim about quakes was dubious. "Aren't you here to clear it?"

"Hah!" The worker slapped his thigh. "Me n' Brett here," he pointed to a man in the other work vehicle, a truck, "we were sent this morning. But there's gotta be at least a hundred tons of rubble here. No way we can clear it up with one damned loader. We called the company, they said they'd figure it out. Now we're just sitting here, waiting."

"I see. Any other way of getting to a village hereabouts? Called Garden."

"Can't say I know these places well. But if people live there, you should be able to find a way in."

They returned to the van and backed off, seeking a roundabout path. Was this a natural occurrence or was it already part of the job? It was impossible to tell at this point.

A little while later he turned at a fork, a dirt road through the forest. He came to a gravely segment, bouncing in his seat. Another rocky wall formed in the distance.

"Couldn't be," he mouthed over his second cigarette. Did the vermin completely block off access roads? A creeping sense in his gut began to whisper. Things could be ugly.

He exited the van and pulled the back doors open. Golem stepped out meekly, red eyes taking in the environment. This wall was different. It was barely taller than the Exterminator himself, for one.

He gestured Golem to stay close and neared the outcrop. If the previous one could have been passed off as a natural slide, this one was sure to have been constructed. The immediate surrounding land was flat, interspersed with stones and boulders. He thought he could see some holes in the soil where the bigger ones had been dug out, then dragged to form a wall. As much as it was short, it was sure to be much longer than the previous wall. It lapsed from a rocky ridge he could spot through the trees and disappeared into the forest on the other end.

"Looks shoddy enough," he spat out the cigarette butt and carefully crushed it. He pointed to the rock wall, clicking his tongue. "Smash."

Golem stared inertly with its red eyes, but slowly levelled its little round head at the target - a section made up of smaller boulders. It seemed to comprehend. It began plodding, gradually picking up a bound. Slow by all means, but its heavy body shook the earth with each step.

Its master gave a satisfied nod and examined the floor more closely. There were footprints around. Scattered, heavy footprints. They were larger than the Golem's, but otherwise similar. This fit the Graveler's description. A few were here. Maybe three.

CRACK!

Golem's solid bulk made hard contact with the wall. Pebbles click-clacked to the floor. A dent in the stone suggested a near-break. The creature backed up, then bounded at it again, already warmed up. As it neared the wall, its tiny legs hopped, body spinning midair. It collided with the rock.

CHUNK!

A sound of splitting stone, then a cloud of dust. Golem disappeared within. A rasp of dismay from afar. The Exterminator heard more stomping and cracking. Soon thereafter the sounds of another creature. Golem was under attack.

The man hurried over, lighting another cigarette in his mouth. As the dust settled he saw Golem in a fighting stance, its body covered with dust. Facing it was an overgrown Graveler (still barely half a head over the Exterminator himself), clumsily marking its ground. It resembled a large mass of gravel hulking on two legs. Its skin was stone, but brittle in comparison to Golem's. It looked mighty aggravated.

"Looks like we ruined that fort of yours, buddy," said the man. The Graveler gawped, no shred of intelligence apparent in its eyes.

"Golem!" He called out. "Smash." The situation was hardly different than before.

Golem and its opponent, the Graveler, shared a link they were both aware of. They belonged to the same species. Golem may have been smaller, but that was natural. It was older and more experienced. Given the proper training and conditions, Graveler shed their excess bulk and one of their two pairs of arms. In exchange, they develop a near-impenetrable crust of skin, rock-solid muscles grafting their appendages and a brain larger by half. They mature into Golem. The chances of this occurring to any Graveler in the wild hover around 0.03%.

But the Exterminator knows how to make this happen.

The two rock beasts spiraled toward each other, rasping and preening. Suddenly, the Graveler twisted its lumber, placing its foot between Golem's. It issued a heavy smack-down from its shoulder and made contact with Golem's plate skin. Golem, anticipating this, shrugged the blow, leaving its opponent off-balance. It twisted its tough oval body and gave the Graveler a good nudge in the back. The Graveler whirled on its axis, plunging its four arms to the ground to stay footed.

When it came to intra-species relations, younger variants often obeyed their superiors after a show of force. That was why the man had brought Golem. If all went well, the Graveler would recognize their inferiority after a few fair beatings and subjugate themselves to his Golem. The Exterminator would then lay down the law, and convey it to them through Golem.

But this Graveler wasn't stopping. It was pissed.

Rasping a paltry roar, it charged at Golem on all six limbs. The Golem was ready to take it up on the challenge. It launched forth with a heavy dexterity the Graveler could not match. The Exterminator thought he could see its eyes go wide as it tried to stop, but it was too late. Golem leapt. The air split as its spinning body smashed into the enemy. The Graveler was thrown bodily into the air, chunks of its stone shell flitting overhead.

It landed smack dab in the middle of the road, one of its arms launching off into a tree. It rocked on its back, trying to get up, but flopped on its belly instead. It began to wail. A voiceless, crunchy echo. Not submitting. Calling for help.

Oh well, not like he expected things to go smoothly.

A rocky hump to the Exterminator's left began to rise. He had taken it for a part of the rock wall and that was a mistake. It was another Graveler. There was no time to recall his Golem to defend him. Had to act fast.

The creature was not as tall as him, but outweighed him in mass by a factor of 8. It could crush him just by lying down and crawled forward, aiming to do just that.

Spitting out his cigarette, the man unhooked the Injector at his belt, loaded and sprung. He could see the surprise in the creature's eyes as he sprinted toward it. It spread out four of its arms, hoping to catch him in a crushing embrace.

Good thing its kind was slow.

The Exterminator hopped on a rock and leapt onto the rock wall. The creature stumbled aside to follow, but could barely reach the rim of the wall with its arms. The Exterminator leaped off the wall and over the creature's head. It wasn't far enough. His ass hit the beast's protruding back and he tumbled down to the ground. The Graveler turned clumsily, but the Exterminator still gripped the Injector fast. Before the creature could fully face him, he pointed it at its rocky side and pulled the pulled the trigger. The mechanic coil of the Injector hissed and the needle glowed red hot. Moments later he felt a shockwave in his arm as the titanium hafted dart punched through the Graveler's rock skin.

The Graveler howled and arched its back. The arrow half-stuck from its body as it delivered the payload - an elemental neutralizer. It worked as advertised, spreading the Grass element through its body, countering its Rock type.

The Graveler froze, body drenched with shock, then fell over like a stone plate, ground shaking. It ceased to move. The creature was small for its kind, so the dose may have been lethal. The sighed at the waste, but there was no time to lament.

A repetitive drumming came from the fight ahead. The Golem held the first Graveler's severed arm, smacking it over and over. Grounding it to smaller bits. Translucent gel seeped from the deep-set wounds of its body. Their rock skin made up almost half of their bodies, but on the inside they were still creatures of flesh, like all.

Golem noticed him and tossed the arm away. It ran up to its master, looking pleased with itself. Its hard boulder of a body was covered with small, gravelly chunks. The man tossed it a treat and patted its back.

Something cracked in the bushes. The Exterminator startled, looked up. There was another in the forest. And more behind it, looming in the brush. Golem turned on its heels and shrieked. The Graveler saw their inferiority, and lumbered off, disappearing into the darkness. He judged them too far to pursue.

"Shit." This was bad news.

He surveyed the area. Two Graveler down, but he knew the job was far from over. The footprints suggested there were at least a dozen Graveler here some time during the formation of the wall. Moreover, the wall that clogged the main road required some serious numbers to be completed so quickly.

Then there was the fact these two didn't submit. Meaning they thought they could win against a superior of their kind, cocky in their numbers. The man sighed. This was bigger than he had been expecting.

A subtle anxiety took hold in his gut. He had to go on and investigate the town. What waited for him at the end of that road? An empty village full of bloody corpses, their skulls hacked and smashed? Children scattered dead in the streets, bodies covered with chunks of rock? It would have had to happen fast, but it wasn't unprecedented. Perhaps the village would still be holding on, the horde of Graveler wary to step on human territory. Too many possibilities. Had to investigate.

He looked back at the van through the crack in the rock wall. It would be impossible to get the whole vehicle through. Time to grab supplies, take as many Injector darts as possible and continue on foot.

"Shit. Let's get back," he said to his Golem and started toward the truck, lighting another cigarette, scanning the ground for the previous one he hadn't been able to step on yet.

"This is definitely going to be a ten-cigarette day. Maybe fifteen.

We'll see."

* * *

Welcome one and all, to Garden. You've just completed the short prologue of a larger tale - Part 1 of 9. The story is already done and edited. It will be coming out on this and other platforms weekly, every Saturday.

As you might have noticed, this is a gritty reimagining of a much-beloved franchise. It takes place in an entirely new world, borrowing only the creatures from the other series, though even they seem to have fallen on hard times.

The chapters to come will include a tasteful collision of epic story arcs, world-weary characters and shameless violence.

I hope you stay tuned, there is much to come.

* * *

_The names of creatures and their general features are owned by Game Freak. Cover design by me._

* * *

This is no ordinary town, but then the Exterminator is far from ordinary himself. Will he be able to stem the onslaught of the rock beasts or will he succumb to the gravel tide?


	2. Mists

"Yeah, I remember him. It, I mean." The lad over the phone sounded disinterested. He slurped on his tea like a piglet in a trough.

"Bring it here. To me," the Exterminator said to the young tamer's apprentice.

"W-what?" The kid choked on his fluids. "Are you losing your mind out there, dude?"

"I might be. But I'm serious. Larry." He looked out the doors of his van, where Golem was waiting for him patiently. He couldn't tell if it was sleeping.

There was a brief pause then. The boy must have realized he was serious. It was the first time he'd ever said his name.

"Listen. I seriously don't think it's safe. You haven't used him- it - used _it _in… How many years?" He was right. The boy must have been little more than a toddler the Exterminator last parted ways with _it._

"Let me worry about that," the Exterminator continued, despite himself. "Bring it here, and take Walden with you. Or Jane the Rod if he's not there. Someone strong."

There was a silence on the other end. Then "Send me the coordinates. I'll radio you when I'm near."

"Knew I could count on you, Larry." He fumbled a cigarette out of the pack with one hand.

"I'm expecting double, no, triple pay for this. Dad doesn't find out."

"Who taught you kids to bargain with grownups anyway?"

The kid hung up.

The Exterminator brought up his cigarette, but his fingers crushed it instead. He tossed the mess in the bin and put his hands over his face. The kid was right. It wasn't like him to resort to drastic measures. Who knew how dangerous that monster could be. He was putting everybody one the line. The kid, whoever he brought with him to hold _it_ back, last of all the people he was supposed to be protecting here.

Stupid. Yet, he sensed something. Something wrong. A niggle at the back of his neck that would not go away. At times it felt like intuition was the sole thing keeping him alive, so he pressed on the only way he knew how. But there was more to it.

This job had _Death Squad_ written all over it. Blocked traffic, pest population gone wild. He had had to dispose of two vermin before seeing any people. Something was clearly wrong and it would be noticed. And then the Death Squad would be called - if they weren't already on their way - and they would turn everything to ashes. He didn't want to see that happen again.

So he had called that rookie animal caretaker of his and asked him to bring a weapon. One that might backfire right up his ass.

"God help me," he said and lifted himself off his haunches, shrugging a monstrous backpack over his shoulder, packed with necessities for a plethora of possible outcomes.

"It's go time," he said.

Golem faced him slowly, then jumped on its feet and trotted along.

The man turned back to his colorful van for the last time. The bright letters were clearly visible through a patina of grime on its surface. Winnie Alec's PEST CONTROL. And next to it, a picture of a handsome face that used to be his.

Alec smirked.

And they were off on another job that might've been his last.

They had been walking for an hour when the mist started creeping in. There had been no indication of it beforehand, it was out of place. The sky had been overcast a while, but the humidity wasn't high when he'd left the van.

It made him think of the Mists performed in the circus when he was young. A group of tamers circled the big top, flapping decorative whips while snow-white Vulpix foxes blew mists from their noses, then painted the air hazy with their rich, furry tails.

A sharp snap to his right and Alec whipped his head round. Three scared Deerling loped across the road. Their backs were white, speckled with dots of green, indicating a change in season – the coming spring. A taller one came after, limping badly. Its back was crimson, blood oozing down the entire length of its neck from a hole where a growing horn might have been.

It gazed at them frightfully, then staggered off.

If this was a sign, it was sure to be a bad one. His suspicions grew worse when he stumbled on a carcass 15 minutes later. The mist was turning foggy and he near sank his shoe in the pile of muck.

A Spearow that had been pecking on it reared its wings and squawked at him.

"Alright, buddy." He took a step back. As he was turning to go on, the Spearrow startled and zipped straight over his head, a chunk of red meat still in its beak. He felt a gust of wind. The mists swirled about him, making way for a huge flying figure. A bird as tall as his shoulder landed on the carcass and sank its claws into it.

He recognized it, although he'd never seen one up this close. Golem stepped in front of Alec and growled, but the Mandibuzz didn't seem to bother. It scooped up the entrails with its long, pointed toes and took off, flecking fleshy goops of corpse around.

Alec counted himself lucky to not believe in omens. Before he'd even entered the village, he was forced to change tacks twice, been attacked by PDAs – Potential Danger Animals, witnessed mangled wildlife. Now a big shitting carryon.

Two words flickered at the back of his mind.

_Death Squad, Death Squad._

Dammit, but he needed to hurry.

The mist was clearing and he could start to make out shapes in the distance. Then a gunshot popped his ears in. A deafening crack. Golem staggered, howling, holdings its shoulder.

"No!" Alec shouted.

He could make out a figure in the distance, clad in the Rangers' Orange, lining up another shot.

"Stop! Cease fire, idiot!" He waved his arms in the air, suddenly filled with panic.

The figure froze, rifle raised at its shoulder. There was a deadly moment where Alec was sure another shot would come any second and tear off his head. Another figure stepped close and there was arguing. The Ranger lowered his rifle.

Alec let out a quick breath, then turned to Golem. It was already up on its feet, looking no worse than before. He remembered these were hard creatures, whose stone carapace ensconcing its entire body amounted to almost the entirety of its six hundred kilograms of body weight. Nonetheless he could see a dent in its rock-plated shoulder, still smoldering from the friction.

"You okay, bud?"

Golem kept staring at him inertly. Might have been its way of saying all's good. Or it was screaming in pain on the inside. Either way, Alec figured it was fine. He'd smear some Carbon gel on that later and it'd fix itself up. "Right. Let's run." He clapped Golem on the back and instantly regretted it. His hand smarted as if he'd been the one who was shot.

They approached the mist-veiled figures. Alec put his hands in the air and was amused to see Golem mimicking him with its tiny paws.

The Ranger was less than a stride away when he raised the rifle again. "That there's enough. I want, and I demand explanation before you pair get any closer." He was a scrawny man with a matted blond beard.

Alec didn't slow a whit. Matter of fact, he was getting pissed. "An explanation? How about an explanation for firing at an unknown person?" His fists were clenched. His voice burned in his throat. "Throw that fucking rifle down before I drag your ass to the Union and demand a court martial."

He paused at that, rifle barrel drooping. "Now listen 'ere, you-"

"Enough, Berk. Put that toy of yours down." A tall, light-haired woman emerged from behind. She exuded an air of authority.

Berk spat on the ground and dangled the rifle.

Alec walked up to them and resisted the urge to push the Ranger into the ground with his boot. But when you're paddling up shit creek, it's best to snuff out additional conflicts before they emerge. Instead of punching Berk in his stupid face, he extended him his hand. "Alec, Pest Control. Licensed wildlife regulator." Berk took his hand warily. "This here is Golem. He's a matured variant of the Graveler, the PDAs that have been bothering your town. I've brought him here to bring them to order."

Berk looked him up and down. "Alright, sonny. But I ain't shaking his hand." He laughed self-indulgently and turned around.

"I sincerely apologize for the mishap," the woman shook her head, scrunching up her entire face in dismay. It was a decent act. "We've been watching this road after the residents reported more Graveler sightings around. We're all a little on edge, truth be told."

Alec scoffed. "If he's your main Ranger, I'm not surprised you've got a pest problem."

"He's an apprentice." The woman sighed. "Herbert, our head Ranger went off yesterday. I'll explain later." She firmly took his hand. "I'm Samanthe. I run a bit of business in town. She certainly talked like a woman who ran business, and other things beside. "We've been waiting for you, Mr. Alec. I sincerely offer the deepest apologies on behalf of our town and hope this…" She gripped her forehead, as if she had just witnessed a double murder. Which it might have been. "…horrible accident doesn't color your impression of our beautiful town. We will make sure our apprentice Ranger is promptly disciplined."

Alec saw through her. It was obvious she was doing everything in her power avoid him filing a suit against the town for compensation. That would be bad for her ventures.

"I'm impressed you still manage to keep your concern on business when you're in the middle of what might be a Class 3 infestation," he said, mustering some iron in his tone.

She just smirked. "The concern is _always_ on business." She suddenly kneeled down to Golem. "But I do feel awful about this little cutie." She petted its little head. It didn't seem to care. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to him? Whatever you name, the town will foot it."

"_IT's _going to be fine for as long as the job needs it to be. All repair and medical bills are affixed to the bill it's done." Frankly, he was weirded out, he'd never heard anybody call Golem cute.

"Understood." She rose. "Let me escort you to town. Berk, stay here and keep watch."

"Yes m'am," he nodded. His knuckles were white from gripping the barrel.

As she and Alec turned to leave, she added: "And try not to shoot anybody else."

She had a bird, and it was big. It flew overhead, scouting as they walked. At first he thought it may have been the Mandibuzz he had seen, but he was wrong. From down below he could spot its fluffy white wings and long blue neck.

"You've got a serious problem on your hands," he said. The road had turned to gravel and the trees were thinning out. There was a farm on a nearby hill and he thought he could make out a group of wooly Mareep, huddling by a barn window. If they hadn't been locked up in time, the PDAs might have taken them already. Yes, creatures of stone were well known to be painfully slow eaters of rock, but no being can live off minerals alone.

"We're aware. We've had sightings going back weeks."

"Why didn't you contact a Regulator sooner?" The term _Exterminator_ was plain and accurate, but it scared folk. Alec found it more productive to use _Regulator_ with his clients.

"It was only a day or two ago when all hell broke loose. There was an attack, but we weren't sure just yet. We called on your services as a precaution. That night, a blast woke up the whole town. The men stormed out into the streets with weapons, finding about a dozen of the beasts milling around town. We scared them away. In the morning – yesterday - we ran out of signal. Herbert, our main Ranger, investigated the local antenna and found it smashed. We've got no signal now, and we're penned in until somebody outside of town notices we're off the grid."

"What about landline?"

"The antenna was the main link between landlines. It also connected the local lines with the region's. We're completely cut off. Herbert took it upon himself to venture up north, to the hills. There is another larger antenna up ways, so we hoped he could get into its range to signal the authorities."

"When did he leave?"

"He left just this morning, packing a bandolier of Neutralizer darts."

"Why didn't you send him down this way, toward the road? I managed to get a signal back there."

"That was the way he tried first. Berk had to execute cover fire while Herbert ran from three Graveler." She shook her head. "Frankly, I'm surprised you've managed to get here".

Alec thought about the rock wall he had cleared, and the Graveler they had dispatched. Not to mention the ones looming darkly in the shade of the forest. "It's only my job. If you do manage to contact your Ranger, I advise you urge him against signaling the authorities."

She gave him an odd look. "Why ever now? Not to say I don't believe in your skills, but this situation clearly calls for help from the Ranger Union."

"It's not the Union I'm talking about." He could still remember the smell of charred flesh, the scoured earth, the embers shimmering in the wind. "Once they hear the word _attack, _they'll send someone else to _help _with your problem. And then your village is good as burned to the ground."

"Then we might need to contact other Regulators instead," she ventured.

Alec gave her a pained look, before lighting a cigarette. "I wouldn't trust them. Most will contact the authorities when they catch a whiff of trouble. What you've just described to me _reeks_ trouble. Then it amounts to the same.

She looked straight ahead, saying nothing. They walked in silence until they emerged onto a concrete road. There were sparse houses around, but the street seemed empty. Folk were likely hiding in their homes.

"Altaria!" Yelled Samanthe. Her bird reappeared in the sky from a distant speck. She turned to Alec. "I'll go on and contact our headman, tell him you've arrived. Meanwhile, you can get to work," she said.

"First, I need to make an account of the situation, take in the scope and classify the infestation level. Meaning I'll need first-hand accounts." Golem sat down on the sidewalk. It must have been getting tired from lugging its heavy body all the way.

Samanthe pointed to a house at the far end of the street. "Our victim lives right in that house. She was the one who was attacked two days ago, so you might want to start with her. There's only one thing."

"What is it?"

"She's a child. She can't be more than eight."

Alec inhaled sharply. The Death Squad scenario just got a whole lot more likely. "Got it," he said. "We'll split."

"Keep in contact," said Samanthe. "The signal may be down, but I've got a transceiver function on my phone. Do you?"

"It's a must in my business. Radio me if anything comes up."

"Good. I'll contact you when I've finished arranging voluntary patrols along the east and west sectors of town. Best of luck."

She was off. Altaria swooped through the air and followed her at a distance. She mentioned a headman, but Alec had an idea he wasn't the only person with a say around here. It took a strong character to keep a creature like that trained.

A lone dog howl pierced the air. Sounded like a Herdier.

"We should be going too," he said. He thought he could see a hint of exasperation in Golem's red eyes. "You'll get your rest, don't you worry."

Golem stood up sluggishly. Looked a little depressed about all the walking. "You'll live," Alec said, reminding himself the creature was shot not an hour back.

He snuffed the cigarette and weighed in his mind whether or not he should walk to the bin and toss the thing properly.

He tossed it on the ground. Nobody will care about a piece of trash in a warzone.

To put a stop to it, he needed answers. He went forth to find them.


	3. Monsters

_DING_

The doorbell rang on inside, but it took a while before steps approached. He leaned on the doorway and took one last drag on his new cigarette, then tossed it.

The smoke dispersed as Golem waited patiently under the steps.

The door opened. A frail woman of short stature looked him up and down mistrustfully. "And you might be?"

He put on a professional smile and tried to shake off any world-weariness he might've been feeling. "Good day, ma'am. I'm Winnie Alec, licenced wildlife Regulator. I've been hired by village council to eschew the Graveler problem. I'm to assume your daughter is a victim-"

She grabbed his vest and pulled him inside, checking left and right in the street. "Who told you about my little Zoe?"

Alec found himself wrong-footed. "Ma'am. It's the council's duty to give me the information I need to-"

"Her." She scowled. "I know it was the bird woman. Every little thing that happens in this town has to go through her. Come this way." He followed her through a cramped little hall, beckoning Golem to stay outside. The woman appeared not to have noticed it. She sat him down at a little dining table. "Want some coffee? Tea?"

"Coffee's fine," he said. Hospitality was a pleasant surprise.

She put on a kettle and scooped teaspoons of coffee into a cup. "The doctor's checking up on her right now. She comes by every few hours or so."

"I'm sorry this had to happen to your girl. Do you mind me asking how severe the injuries are?"

The woman grabbed a dishtowel and wiped up the grains she'd spilled. "What those monsters did… when I saw her lying there, I thought she was… Oh god… I shoulda known it was a bad idea, moving to the middle of nowhere."

Uh-oh. The woman was starting to delve into her life story. He remembered she hadn't even introduced herself yet. "'Scuse me, I don't believe I ever got your name."

"It's Sheila. We're the Cormacs." She poured hot water from the kettle. "Milk?"

"Thanks, I go without." She handed him the cup and sat down opposite him. "I gather you don't like the folk around here?"

She looked out the window. There were red circles under her eyes. "I dunno. They're very nice. Just about the whole village came knocking on my door to introduce themselves the day we moved in. They all said 'call us if you need any help at all. They came back knocking nearly every day. They wanted to make us part of them, whatever it took. Heck, maybe I'm just not trusting."

She looked tired to him. A deep-set tiredness that creeps up on you after years of being tired. "Did they come knocking yesterday when your girl was attacked?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Yeah. They came afterward. All of them offering help. I said 'thankya' and asked to leave us in piece, not to tell everybody what had happened. Just want her to rest up nice and well. It's good that the doctor keeps coming here, though. I didn't even need to call her. She just showed up."

He tasted his coffee. It was still hot, but the bitterness pleased him. "Sounds like a tight-knit community. What happened to your girl yesterday?"

The woman paused, then took a breath. "Well, I was at home all day. Then-"

"We're all done." An older woman appeared by the stairs, a young girl next to her. The woman was in plain clothes and had a leather bag over her shoulder. Her caring, yet stone-cold expression screamed "doctor". The girl, Zoe, was even smaller than Alec had been expecting. She wore an oversized nightgown and a bandage covered her left eye. Purple bruising stained the milky skin on her arms, some of it looking close to major trauma. It almost hurt Alec's stone heart and he'd seen many things.

Ms. Cormac went over to her daughter and hugged her gently. "Oh, my poor little girl."

"I'm fine, mommy," the girl said, patting her mother's shoulder. Alec wondered which of the two looked more beaten down.

The doctor appraised him shrewdly. "You're the Exterminator we called."

Alec's eyes widened. It was a good deduction. "To my clients, I'm usually a Regulator. You must be a village councilwoman, doctor."

She shrugged. "Call a spade a spade. I take it you're here to for Zoe?"

"I want to ask her some questions. Try and get a feel for the situation."

The doctor smiled dryly. "Then I'll take my leave. I'll come tomorrow with fresh bandages, make sure the wounds are healing nicely."

Ms. Cormac thanked her and the woman left into the setting afternoon. She had looked quite comfortable in a stranger's home. Either she was a visiting doctor or it was just the village nature.

"This man is here to take away the monsters that hurt you," Ms. Cormac told her daughter, holding her close.

"They're not monsters, mommy," said the girl. She looked at Alec with one big eye, unafraid.

"Let's sit down on the couch," said mommy, ignoring her daughter's words. She took them through a door and they sat down in a modest living room. As soon as Zoe took her seat, shifting carefully to avoid pain, a Herdier padded into the room out of nowhere, climbed on the couch and curled itself next to her.

"This is Happy. He's our dog," she said, smiling warmly. "He saved me yesterday. Didn't you. Didn't you, little muffin." She ruffled its ears. The dog yawned amiably.

Alec pressed his hands together. "So, tell me what happened to you yesterday."

"I got beat up by those rock-animals," the girl said, like it happened every day. Alec heard her mother mouth "monsters" silently.

He looked out through the window and noticed a padded boulder outside. Golem was resting in the yard. "Were you outside alone?"

"No. My new friend Betty came over to play, but mommy said we had to stay near the house."

"Did you stay near the house?"

"…No." Zoe turned away in shame. "I asked if I could borrow her bicycle and she said yes. Betty sat on the porch and I went to the end of the street, then I wanted to go back, but..." She nibbled on her lip. "There was a cat that meowed really loud."

"You saw a cat? What kind of cat?" Getting information out of a child could be difficult, but they seldom lied. Alec had enough experience to know every detail was crucial.

"I don't know. I didn't see it. I heard it meowing, like, really loud. I was worried it was hurt. Then Happy started barking and running to it."

"It? The meowing?"

"Yes. I got scared Happy would run away. I chased him, but he was too fast." Ms. Cormac stroked her daughter's short hair. Her face was dripping with guilt. "Mommy said I couldn't go far, but I did. I was bad. I'm sorry, mommy." There were tears glistening in both their eyes.

"It's okay, baby," mommy whispered. "It's okay."

The poor girl, thought Alec. No wonder her mother was a mess. "Did you follow your dog? Happy?"

"I tried to keep up, but I couldn't find him. I got lost and I started crying, but nobody helped me."

Alec looked at Ms. Cormac. "Aren't people around here supposed to be helpful?" The mother shrugged and shook her head.

"There was nobody there. All the houses were empty," said Zoe.

"What do you mean?" Alec asked.

"The houses had no people inside. They were old houses with no windows."

"You went to Jackal street?!" Her mother practically screeched. "Zoe, you must not go there ever again! Those abandoned houses are dangerous!" The girl threw her arms around her and uttered muffled apologies.

"I know this must be hard," said Alec. "But what happened on that street?"

Zoe was red in the face. "I... well, I saw Happy. He ran to me and barked. I thought he sounded worried and I tried calm him down, but he kept barking. Then he ran to where I came from. I tried to follow him back, but then the big rocky animal showed up." Ms. Cormac looked like she was about to faint. "It was all still, like a statue. And then there was a lot of them everywhere. I ran away on my bike, but one of them hit me. Then I was rolling down. When I woke up in my room, I thought it was a bad dream."

"It's alright now," Alec said, as much to Zoe as to her mother. "It wasn't a bad dream, but it'll soon just be a bad memory." He turned to Ms. Cormac. "Were you the one who found her?"

"I was looking for her already then," she said. "Little Betty said she took her bike and didn't come back. Then this old dog came over to us and started barking. It was so loud, so… I'd never heard it barking like that before. I knew something had happened to little Zoe right away and I don't even know how. I just got so scared. The dog… Happy, he went down the street, looking back at us and barking. He wanted us to follow."

Alec had heard of such things happening before. "It led you to her?"

"It did. We found her lying in the bushes at the bottom of this big slope. When I saw her, I thought she was…" she looked at her daughter, tears streaming down her face. She forced herself to move on. "I didn't even think about Jackal Street being up at the top until just now. This was just on the edge of the forest. I thought something…" Ms. Cormac couldn't go on anymore. She just stayed still. Zoe hugged her tenderly, while Alec respectfully faced the floor.

"I broke Betty's bike," Zoe said, after a while. "Betty said it's fine as long as I'm okay, but I want to save up money to make it up to her."

The room was still again. Alec thought he'd gained all the insight he could from Zoe.

This could be very bad, indeed. The PDA territory was already breaking the boundaries of the village. He stood. "This has been invaluable. I apologize for bringing up painful memories," he looked Zoe in the eye. "What you said here will help the people of your village."

What she said next shocked him.

"Don't hurt them."

"What?" His mouth was open.

"They're just animals. Like Happy. They didn't mean to hurt me, they were scared. I could feel it."

Her mother swayed her head. "Zoe…"

"It's alright, Ms. Cormac. Little Zoe here may just be right. Kids often have a sense for animals we lose as we age. Thank you, little lady."

He drank up the rest of the lukewarm coffee, and thanked Ms. Cormac too, trying his best to remain a courteous professional.

"Come, Golem." He said outside. It didn't look pleased to be standing again, but then it was always hard to tell what it was thinking.

Alec scanned a map of Garden he'd downloaded on his phone beforehand, but found no trace of what he was looking for. He turned on the radio on his phone. "Samanthe, you here?"

After a while, a voice through the static: "I'm here." There were other voices in the background.

"I need directions to a Jackal Street."

Samanthe sounded surprised. "It's on the west side of the village. A few blocks down from the street where we parted. What about it?"

"Tell your team to set up watch in that area. But to stay clear of the street itself. And…"

"Yes?"

"Is there a way to deliver a message to all residents fast?"

"We have frequent problems with phones and connection around here – it's the lodestone in the soil, causing magnetic interference. Garden only has a population of 455 and most households own a transceiver, since it tends to bypass interference on short range. Why?

"I want to hold a village gathering, with as many residents present as possible. Tonight. They need to be made aware of the danger they are in and how they can help to end it."

There was a silence on the other end. He knew Samanthe must have been aware of the load of shit hovering over their heads. "The council has been discussing holding a gathering of the town, but we can hardly organize it so quickly. Is this urgent?"

"Yes."

"…" Samanthe was speaking to somebody on the other end. "Mr. Alec?"

"Yeah?"

"The village council is meeting in an hour. I'll levy a proposal for an emergency gathering in the local auditorium. And Alec?"

"Yes?"

"I trust you know what you're doing."

"Of course."

She clicked off. He swiped away the transceiver and checked the map. The old street wasn't marked, but there was a road dead-ending at the far western side of the village. He took off, Golem in tow.

As he turned the corner, he found the old doctor sitting on a bench. She was smoking.

"You've been waiting for me?" He said.

She blew smoke through her nostrils. "Aye."

He sat down next to her and lit his own cigarette and they smoked in silence a while.

"Two days ago, I voted against calling you here at the meeting." She said, face implacable.

Alec narrowed his eyes. He'd suspected the old lady didn't think much of him, but did not expect her frankness. "So you did."

"I know you by reputation. What you used to be."

Alec was used to cursing his past. He waited to see if he would be cursing it again.

"I'm sad to say my apprehensions were confirmed the second I saw you in that house," she said.

"I'm doing my job, ma'am. I talk to witnesses, investigate leads, then respond to threats in the appropriate measure."

The doctor didn't so much as look at him. "Right now our town has one big problem."

"The Graveler."

"No."

"Pardon?"

"Our problem is the antenna. It was smashed, and it took the landline with it. Being this far up in the Lapis foothills, we've never had good connectivity. So we use radio to talk to each other now, but the outside world is unreachable to us. A horde of beasts has ensconced our town and we have no way of sending help. No way, save for one."

"Ahh." Alec could see it now. Her animosity made sense.

"We've got a lot of old, sick folk in this town who rely on outside help. We need to contact the appropriate authorities who can get this mess cleaned up quick. Nobody's managed to get outside the village since yesterday. But one person has managed to break through and get in." She faced him. Faced him very, very sternly. "I've been a doctor for 40 years. It makes me wonder why that person has yet to do the one thing he can to save over four hundred people."

Alec took a long drag on his cigarette. The smoke dispersed in front of his eyes. "There was a village not unlike this one. It was called Rodrick's Bank, on account of it being next to this big river. Have you heard of this? It made the news."

She twitched in anger, bit her lip to keep it down. "No, Exterminator, I have not."

"Well, there was a small-time snake breeder in Rodrick's Bank, an amateur. One day, the breeder noticed one of the Ekans specimen had grown too big and had crawled out of its pit. He tried to fend it back, but it bit him. They found him dead days later, bitten at least a hundred times, on every part of the body. All his snakes were gone and there had been at least a dozen.

They left the matter to their local Rangers and not much happened in the next few months. Until they started spotting Arbok in the wild. An Arbok is what happens when an Ekans grows to its fullest size. Careful breeders know how to keep them small, but they usually have to be put down if they start growing hoods. Arbok are bad news. They're found rarely in the wild, and then only in dense rainforests. The prey in this part of the world is too small for them, and too sparse.

Why the Arbok decided to thrive in Rodrick's Bank, I can hardly tell you. It might have had to do with the hormones the breeder was injecting them with.

Anyways, the Arbok were hungry, and vicious. There were attacks on some children. None of them were killed or missing, luckily, but a few had to be taken to the hospital. I was called on the job. Left with no choice, I and Golem here started tracking them down, killing them one by one, but the Ekans were spreading. And they were breeding. We saw them daily, tangled across roads and forest tracks, each nearly as long as a child.

It was a scene from a horror flick. The situation was getting out of control. The local Rangers and I came to the decision to call the Union for help - they've got Elite Units, supposedly there to take on problems the local Rangers can't handle on their own.

But when they heard of the animals attacking humans – children - the job went straight up to the Extermination Task Force, commonly known as the Death Squad."

His mouth was dry from talking. He dragged on his cigarette and coughed up smoke.

"What are you trying to tell me?" The doctor said.

"They came. They secured the perimeter in a matter of hours, evacuated civilians. After that, they commenced turning the village and everything around it to ashes. They burned everything, alive or dead. It took barely a day. Know what the worst thing was?"

She looked at him now, eyes large in her wrinkled old sockets. "What was that?"

"The Rodrick's Bank Rangers and I returned to the scene, witnessing the sheer professional horror of it. The stench was indescribable. An ungodly mix of burning plastic, cooked meat, rotten eggs. Not a single one of us managed to keep our lunch. We found all the PDAs, predictably, burned. But there was one corpse that was unlike the rest. There were feet sticking out from a patch of rubble. We tried to lift it, but his body was stuck to the concrete like melted chewing gum. Somehow, everybody had forgotten about this one disabled old man during the chaos. He stayed inside, oblivious to the storm of fire the Squad was cooking up. _That_ is what you'd be inviting on your doorstep by calling the authorities."

She was stunned. "No. Surely not. The state – the state would not let a team like that go on."

"Oh, there was some martialling involved. Punishments were doled, soldiers demoted, wrists slapped. But the practice remains the same as ever. It's called 'Extreme Preventive Measures' Protocol. The EPMP for short. The state sees any victims as collateral damage, paranoid of another Infestation 98. They'll do anything."

He smoked the rest of his cigarette. The doctor was shaking. He had brought her to terror. He felt bad, but that was the reality of the situation. It was one big, dangerous mess. A haystack in a sea of oil.

"What happened to the village?" She asked, after a while.

"Rodrick's Bank?" Alec said, standing up.

"Nothing. They left it as it was."

* * *

_If you want to know more about the world of the Exterminator, consider reading An Exterminator's Companion, a side-story containing tidbits and lore info on the world of Garden of Gravel. The first entry delves into the biology of Graveler, their habits, intelligence and diet._


	4. Losses

As the dark buildings rose over the newer houses, Alec startled at a sharp crack from his phone. He scrolled through his active apps and noticed he'd left the transceiver open. A muffled voice was saying something, but the signal was far too sparse to tell. Either that was Samanthe's magnetic interference or it was too far away.

He left it on and stashed the phone in his pocket.

The quaint mountain houses of Garden were now thinning out and the grass on the sides of the road was growing long. A flock of Murkrow scattered over the darkening horizon. The road was pocked with holes and cracks, then a few paces on it was almost gone to the mud. Trees and vegetation had taken back most of what humans had claimed. The ground was boggy and Surskit skirted around dirty little ponds on muddy legs.

The old buildings were tall, their facades crumbling and brick exposed. He spied a storm of Graveler tracks coming from the biggest of the houses and approached it carefully, motioning Golem to stay a few paces back.

The wooden stairs leading to the entrance were completely crumbled and the door itself looked as if a large mon had taken several bites out. Likely from the Graveler bustling to get in or out, judging by the short height of the damage marks. That was good. In the worst of scenarios, big attacking groups of animals were led by a larger, fiercer mon. The catch was, the mon had to be of the same compositional type as the pack of animals it was leading. Water animals could, for example, only follow the commands of other, fiercer water types.

If the entrance had been damaged at the top rim, that would have meant something tall like a Tyranitar or Onix was pulling the strings. Alec shivered at the thought.

He hoisted himself over the edge, making sure to avoid sharp splinters of wood. Inside, the house was empty. The floor had been caved in and bare rafters lined the trampled ground. The ceiling seemed on the verge of collapse. A dilapidated stairway rose in a far corner of the vast chamber. He carefully made his way there over a creaking rafter beam.

The smell of old house was pungent. He knew there was little chance of finding any Graveler on the top floor, since the ceiling would have broken had they loaded it with the weight of their heavy bodies. Best to check regardless.

On top, he was greeted by a darkening sky, covered by the shadow of a vast tree-top that had taken the liberty of growing over the space where the roof had been. He turned back to the stairs when he caught sight of something peculiar.

A set of fresh boot-prints in the dust. A troubling feeling surfaced in his gut. That couldn't mean anything good. The prints were large, belonging to an adult. And recently made, meaning somebody must have been here at the same time the Graveler were. He followed them over the debris to the other end of the space, where the sky opened up. The prints disappeared.

Alec raised his eyebrows. Somebody was here, made their way to the outer wall and… was suddenly gone. Where did they go? Did they jump down to the ground? Impossible. As he racked his brain for a solution, a sharp cry pierced the sky, like a cat crying out in pain. It immediately struck Alec this must have been what Zoe had heard.Then something howled fiercely. It was Golem.

"Shit." He sped down the old stairs heedlessly. The last step split in half as he tramped on it. Alec caught his balance on a rafter and stumbled across it to the opening. A rocky smacking was getting louder and louder.

Golem held something in its hand. It swung limply in its grip like a rag. A small rocky body, a head and two large arms. A Geodude – the little cub form of the Graveler.

There was another nearby, its skull broken, brain matter spilling out onto the street. They must have attacked and Golem took care of them as trained.

Alec took the Geodude from Golem's paw and had to strain to lift it. Its small body was deceptively heavy. "Remember when I used to lift you up like this?" He asked. Golem did not respond.

Evidently, Golem had cracked its young counterpart's rock skull enough to kill it instantly. Alec noted the two small nubs on the underside of its head. Geodude are born with only two arms, but gradually grow out another pair as they mature into Graveler. When the rare process of morphing into a Golem occurs, the older arms wrap themselves around the body and are carbonized along with its shell, leaving Golem with only two. The second pair of arms growing out of this Geodude were little more than nubs, meaning it was mere weeks old. This must have been the Gravelers' breeding ground. Those two Geodude had to have been overlooked. Left behind.

Alec stood. "Come," he said, clicking his tongue, and took off. If they had bred here, that meant their dwelling was nearby. Likely some natural crack in the hillside or an abandoned mineshaft. Their tracks were easy to find - there were plenty of trails spreading out, then joining into one main stream. Alec knew he had to proceed very cautiously. It wouldn't do to have all these animals set themselves upon him for encroaching on their territory. He was here solely to assess the threat.

There was at least one mystery solved. The shrill cries that Zoe had heard – they were Graveler cub cries, the shrieks of little Geodude. Alec felt a nostalgic pang. It wasn't seven years since Golem was a Geodude itself. He recalled the countless hours of training and exhaustively precise feeding. The hours of jogs through mountain terrain, the climbing sessions, shell hardening exercises, the tussling and command learning. At the time, it all seemed like a necessary pain in the ass. He remembered it fondly now. Out of all the creatures he'd brought up, it was Golem that was the most consistently loyal to him.

They ventured into the forest, noticing ever more egregious signs of Graveler presence. Broken branches, splintered tree boughs, trampled undergrowth, holes in the earth where big rocks must have been. By the time the old street disappeared from view, the sky had grown dark. Lights went on in the village, but they were barely visible now. It was proper dark. Alec unzipped his large pack and wrapped a light around his forehead. He took out a sandwich and tossed a bit of mineral kibble to Golem.

After a short break, they were at it again. The tracks were big advertisements now, there was barely a tree trunk that wasn't lying flat next to its stump. The undergrowth was stomped into the ground. A big shape flew overhead, flapping its wings and speeding by.

Suddenly, he began stumbling on pebbles and dips. He scanned the surroundings and saw that a mist had crept in around him. He hadn't even noticed it in the darkness, it must have happened quickly since visibility was fine just minutes ago. "Let's turn around now. We'll see what we can do in the morning," he whispered to himself and turned around.

Smack!

His foot struck something hard. He cursed in his mind because he dared not curse aloud. It was a boulder. A chest-high, rugged boulder of suspiciously oval shape. His eyes adjusted to the thickening fog. He could now make out the dozens of similar boulders all around.

_Please don't wake up. _He begged it quietly.

But it did. A gravelly cry issued from the boulder. It began to rise.

"God dammit," he said. They were deep in it now. "Come!" He shouted to Golem, turning and bolting in a direction he hoped was the way they'd come. It took Golem a while to catch up, but Alec knew when it did as the ground vibrated with each of its steps.

A lone, wailing groan blasted from behind. The Graveler he'd stumbled into was wailing, rousing its pals. Moments after, something like the rustle of a landslide stirring all around him. There was no doubt in his mind that a pack of Graveler would soon be champing to stampede him over.

Alec ran for his life.

He didn't notice the stone wall until he nearly crashed into it. He halted. Golem, however, smashed straight into the wall, unable to stop its own weight in motion. The stone cracked and Golem bounded back on its legs, leaving a cannonball hole in the wall.

"Shit, you okay?" Golem showed little sign of hurting. "Good. That stunt'll definitely draw them here." He looked all around him, but found it impossible to see through the fog. The stone wall stretched far in both directions. This was definitely not the way they were supposed to be going. His orientation was all but scrambled. If they tried to run next to the wall, their chances of getting surrounded were half more likely. Running back, away from the wall would only speed up their imminent meeting with the PDA pack. Only one option remained.

"Rock climb," he said, and clicked his tongue decisively. Golem complied without a hitch. It lowered its oval back, allowing Alec to grab ahold and climb on. There was no time to fasten himself to Golem. He would have to hold himself up with his own strength. "Up we go!" He clicked his tongue twice - once for the action itself, once more for continuation.

Golem punched its strong limbs into the rock surface, piercing it as easily as if it were biscuit. The top of Golem's head was almost flat, an anatomical feature Alec was glad to take advantage of. He turned and half-sat his butt right on top of his pet's noggin.

It began to climb, lifting limb over limb without as much as looking up. Normally, the wall would have been unscalable for a human without equipment, but Golem was a one-of-a-kind scaling machine. It climbed without strain, lifting itself evenly like an elevator. Alec's weight did not bother it.

They were more than fifteen meters up by the time their pursuing Graveler started cannonballing into the wall, unable to halt their weight, as Golem had been. He felt the wall shake dangerously and held tight onto Golem, which stopped momentarily. The Graveler kept on coming and crashing, piling themselves on top of one another like a crowd at a rock concert. There were at least twenty there now. Those numbers were concerning, it had to be admitted.

Alec noticed Golem was shaking with strain seconds before it kicked its leg down, unearthing a massive chunk of wall beneath them, sending it straight down on attackers. The mist made it impossible just what had happened, but he heard the boom as the package delivered. Small pebbles and sharp stones zipped up from below, fragments from the explosion, followed by a mass outcry of animalistic pain. Golem resumed climbing.

Alec had known what Golem was capable of – hell - he'd trained it himself. But _this _surprised him. No. It put him in _awe._ The decision to bring Golem was in hope of establishing it the leader of the Graveler pack. What was shocking was just how well Golem was already doing it, without command. This was natural to it. Alec's respect for the creature grew immensely.

The fog swallowed the world. They were climbing in a dark tunnel of mist. In that tense moment, Alec considered the phenomenon. Were these mists truly natural? They thinned out after a while and finally, they were above it. He spotted the lip of the cliff less than ten meters up. He tried not to think of the fact that they were dozens of meters above ground as he fumbled through his pack for the rope he would now certainly need.

Golem grunted in warning, slowing its ascent. The lip slightly overhung the wall itself, so it would have to climb horizontally. Alec grabbed a thin wire rope from the pack and fastened one end around his leg, the other around Golem's head. If worst came to worst, Golem's neck would keep him tethered. It was one of the toughest parts of its body.

The world turned itself around then. As adrenaline gripped his heart, Alec saw the beauty of the world that hadn't been there before. A sheet of fog covered the nightly landscape below them. Stony hills pierced the blanket, rising up to the sky, covered with skeletal pine trees unfurling in the dark. Shit, but the world only seemed to be truly beautiful when it was about to kill him.

He turned around to face Golem's back as he strained his body to keep ahold. The lip was now at its worst, facing the ground below like a ceiling. Alec held on, beads of sweat rolling over the sides of his head and falling far. The severity of angle eased, but he still felt it hard to relax. It struck him how easily he'd accepted the inevitability of having to climb the wall to escape, but stopped himself from thinking if it would have been better to be crushed by those animals outright, rather than falling down fifty meters to greet them dead.

His flow of thought was broken when Golem hoisted them over the edge. Alec let go and splayed his body on the grass, relaxing his muscles. He was wet and the ground was cold, but it was blissful. It was great to be alive. He was laughing. So _fucking _great to just live. He screamed into the night. They had made a clean break. But the pack might still catch up with them. Graveler might be slow, cumbersome and unthreatening to anything with a pair of decent legs, but they were known to be horribly territorial.

He forced himself to sit. Golem was curled up, fast asleep. He carefully removed the wire from its neck and bagged it.

He rummaged through the pack for a bottle of water. He emptied it halfway when the ground started vibrating. He peeked down over the lip and saw the Graveler horde scrambling up the wall en masse. Their slow, awkward performance made Golem's inexorable ascent seem all the more masterful. Nevertheless, they were gradually encroaching up ways.

Difficult as it was to accept, the Graveler were still very much hot on their tails.

"Golem!" Alec shouted. "No time to rest, bud. Sorry." The creature stirred, opening one red eye. Alec found himself unable to communicate just what he wanted it to do. Or rather, repeat. He struck his boot with his fist, and then stomped down on the lip, clicking his tongue all the while. The red eye opened widely in understanding. Golem stretched itself from its curl (as much its anatomy allowed) and inched over to the edge of the lip. It didn't need to see the Graveler to know they were coming.

For the first time ever, Alec heard Golem screech in battle rage. The sound split the sky and echoed over the stone walls. It seemed to balance on the tips of its hind paws and, in a split second, brought its weight down with immense force. Cracks fractured the plateau they were standing on, spreading beyond Alec's feet and onward. Golem recovered and turned around, growling urgently. Telling him to get a move on. Alec didn't need to wait around to see what would happen. As they ran down the slope on the other side, ever-smaller cracks kept outpacing them for a good while before they tapered off. Whatever force Golem had unleashed had fissured the top of the cliff, and would soon unleash a landslide down on their pursuers.

The earth shook and they heard a sound like an ocean wave slamming the shore, followed by the dismayed howls of their pursuing Graveler. Alec imagined their surprise to see the mountain coming down on them.

But the trouble wasn't over. The mist engulfed them once again as they descended, the pine forest growing thick around them. Only most of it wasn't standing. They had to clamber over collapsed boughs and branches to keep moving. Something had begun to flatten the nature hereabouts and Alec had a creeping suspicion about just what it might be.

There was only one way down the slope and Alec could feel the tension. He knew there was a good chance of more waiting for them at the bottom. There were many times in his career he'd wished he was wrong. This was one of them.

Unfortunately, he was right on the money. Living, four-armed boulders with eyes like dead fish awaited them in the collapsed canopies. The trembling earth must have woken them, they were on rise all around.

There was his Infestation Class 3 theory confirmed. Judging by the state of the environment, 4 might not be far ahead. Another separate Graveler pack had found them on the other side of the cliff plateau, ready to swarm. The ones they had run into by Jackal Street were only part of a larger horde. Alec, as well as the Ranger Union had been wondering whether Graveler were capable of forming hordes, so there was another theory confirmed.

There was no time to be shocked, no time to process the scale of threat. This was much larger than he had been anticipating. It was a life-or-death situation. They had to get out. Now.

His eyes darted all around, scanning the dark forest for a path clear of the shadowy beasts lumbering toward them. Up ahead, he saw a clearing free of the fog.

"There!" He shouted and ran ahead. Suddenly, a Graveler burst from inside a hollow tree trunk, grabbing him with two of its arms. Alec tried to wriggle free, but its grip shackled his movement. He couldn't reach the Injector. It pulled him closer and opened its stony maw. As it was about to bite down, the top of its head splattered open and the arms holding him went flying. Alec flew up in the air, then tumbled through bushes, dry needles in his mouth.

Golem, covered in slimy guts, kept bounding onward ahead. After a quick look behind, he went after Golem, his savior. That creature deserved an upgrade of its biome after all this was done.

He hopped over a root on a mound of earth and followed Golem through an opening in the foliage it had made.

He emerged into a vast, open space stopping dead in his tracks. Fear gripped his heart and chained him in place. The scene in front of him took a few seconds to crystallize.

Ahead lay a vast artificial cliff. Different levels of road made for mining machinery many years ago cut the mountainside into a rough bowl shape. Smack dab in the middle of the abandoned quarry yawned a gaping black hole. Cold air oozed out, blowing the mists away. It was black, pure as jet, so dark it seemed infinite, and alluring. It was almost tempting to step toward it, to explore its hidden depths, but rationale stopped him.

A forest of waist-high boulders stretched from within the abyss. A number of Graveler in one place Alec had never heard of. A thought entered his head, unwittingly. They looked like worshippers at mass. There were dozens, no, a hundred. More. All rousing up. Sensing a presence disturbing their holy garden.

Far and beyond shattering the Class 3 ceiling. This was bad, oh-so-fucking bad.

_Death squad, Death squad, Death…_

Golem shrieked a battle cry.

"No!" Yelled Alec. His tongue failed to click in his mouth. He turned back around, but the pursuing Graveler had already caught up to them. They were completely surrounded. He whirled and found himself eye to eye with Golem. The creature was scratched and dirty. Due to their weight, Golem are supernaturally strong, but tire out in hours. During average activity, their wake and sleep cycle lasts less than 4 hours in total. Alec could tell from Golem's drooping posture it was at its wit's end.

"Sorry, buddy," he said. He had brought it into this mess and he truly was sorry. "There's only way outta this now." In that frozen moment of time, Golem seemed to understand him, his emotions, even if it did not know the words. It growled reassuringly.

They faced away from the quarry together.

"Charge!" He took off, running straight for the Graveler creeping from the forest. He drew the Injector and sprung it fast. The first Graveler was already reaching its arms to grab him. He slid beneath the arms and punched the hot dart through its shell. He picked himself up and grappled the Graveler behind the first one. It was taken aback only slightly before it began to crush his bones. Enough time for Golem to crash into it, splitting its shell and spilling its insides like warm putty.

"Charge!" He pulled the trigger again, another dart hissing, stabbing through a Graveler coming in from the side, then immediately went after the speeding Golem. Yet another pack came in to meet them a pace onward.

"Shit." At this stage, they'd be sandwiched in.

Suddenly, the air shook with a devastating shriek. Golem launched straight toward them. Its body was already spinning in the air like a bullet when it reached its enemies, shooting straight through the center, blasting apart their bodies and their formation like a stack of glass bowling pins. Unable to stop, it kept on spinning and rolling in the mud, leaving a wide rut in the earth.

Alec ran after it, breath hot in his throat. The mists were thinning out once more and the night was clear in the sky. He could see their coming demise all the better now. The Graveler surrounded them like ants, spilling from the hills. A pine tree suddenly toppled over, crashing down into the undergrowth to his right. In its dislodged stump he saw Golem stuck, its shell cracked all over.

"Buddy, let's go," he patted it urgently. "Buddy, we gotta hurry, they're right behind us!"

Golem trembled weakly, dislodging itself from the splintered wood. It looked as if it was barely keeping its eyes open.

"Please, buddy, let's go now. Just a little while longer," he kept telling it, starting a slight jogging pace. Golem tried its best to keep up, but its legs wobbled, swaying with every step. He could hear the massive stampede behind them, felt the earth shaking. The horde was almost upon them. They neared a slope up ahead of them. Alec raced to the top, taking in their situation. He saw smoke and lights a few hundred meters away.

"The village! We're almost there!" He shouted, turning around. His heart fell. The scene before him was all too tragic. A broken Golem stood before him, stepping ever more slowly. Holding the cracks in its body with both arms. They glistened with blood. Behind it a sea of Graveler bustled, rushing toward them like a natural disaster.

"Come on, buddy! Just a little more!"

Golem looked up at him, clear red eyes shining in the starlight. "Ahh," it cried, gravelly voice full of wonder, then toppled over, rolling back down the slope.

Alec shouted in dismay as the rolling tide of Graveler engulfed it. He took off running, throat sore from screaming. He dashed through the forest, scraping through bushes, stumbling at roots and fallen branches. Behind him the stampede grew louder and louder.

Something glistened between the trees on the horizon. Knees aching, legs churning, body heavy, he used all his energy in a last ditch sprint. The closer he came, the more certain of it he was. He threw off his large backpack, tossed the torch from his head and threw off his boots. For all else there was no time. The Graveler were now close to arm's reach behind him. He jumped.

The river Avard greeted him like a wall. He crashed into it, sinking almost to the bottom of the stream. Swinging his arms, he surfaced and swam with all his might. Other heavy bodies crashed into the water behind him. Unable to stop, their momentum sent them flying straight over the sharp bank and into cold death below.

Feeling like a wet rag, he dragged himself over the bank on the other side, coughing up water. The Graveler on the other side tried to halt, but the rows behind crashed into the front, pushing them in. Alec watched with mounting horror as the riverbank on their side choked up with carcasses. Soon they were rolling into the river over each other, flailing helplessly.

Dozens of bodies bomb shelled the surface, making waves that slammed the bank Alec had hauled himself over. Still, they were falling, their screams unlike anything Alec had ever heard in his long career. A demonic cacophony merged with the sloshing of the killing water.

Alec didn't know what to feel anymore. So he felt nothing.

Gradually the stampeding horde was able to slow and stop, watching the river in stupid disbelief as their kin drowned below. It lasted for a while for the last of the fallen to die. The water burbled and sputtered with the breaths of their final cries. Then, for an eternity, all was still. It seemed time had stopped. The edge of the bank was packed on both sides with Graveler, still as statues. They stretched almost to the horizon. Despite their losses, the horde had been successful at chasing away the intruders from their nest. Sensing their task to be complete, a cloud of smoke emerged from behind the horde as the hind row turned to stalk back to their nest. The frontrunners soon joined them in a storm of crunching footsteps, leaving for their nesting grounds, to the quarry and the ungodly abyss that occupied it. Trees rustled and collapsed in their wake.

Alec watched them disappear, the sound of them ever fainter. "Let's go," he wanted to say, turning to Golem only to realize it wasn't there anymore. Would never be there anymore.

He sat still. Mind blank.

He dragged himself up on his socked feet and hobbled through the forest in the direction of the light. The night was dark. Branches whipped at him, leaving marks in his skin, twigs and needles bit at his feet. He was beaten down, and exhausted. As beaten down as he was at his lowest. When he was betrayed.

_The carcass. Blood from his own mouth. Something through his stomach. Then the deaths._

He winced at the painful memory, then thought of Golem. He thought he should feel shame. Another creature dead, protecting him and his future failures. but all he felt was the empty space behind him where Golem used to trail after. He had failed in his mission.

"_Hy-ype-e…"_

Everything was hopeless. The threat was more massive than he could have imagined. Never in his life had he seen numbers like those. Not a hundred Exterminators could deal with that.

"Hy-ye…ion co-omes"

The Death Squad was sure to be here soon. They would destroy the village and the forest with an avalanche of fire. Maybe that was for the best.

"I-it… it's here, Alec! Hy-e-eion!"

Despite himself, a flame of hope engulfed his body. Then burning despair washed it down. He realized his phone was still on.

"We ma-ade it fro- -he -arm, Alec!"

He pulled it out and shouted into the transceiver. "Larry! Where are you?!"

"A-ee- here… Alec… at- her—get to – rande-….. On our way."

"Larry, where are you?!" Alec's voice cracked. He'd guessed Larry the apprentice tamer had done what he'd asked him to and brought that _thing _over.

"Do- by off -riv-….."

"Damn it, Larry! If you heard me, turn back now!"

"W—e-r g-a—g couple of hours…"

"Larry! Dammit, Larry!"

"…"

Nothing but static remained on the other end. Alec chucked the phone down in anger. Just then, he spotted a group of helicopters by the mountain peaks in the distance, getting closer. He could tell by the flashing purple lights.

The Death Squad was finally here. However, Larry was on his way over as well, bringing with him Alec's own secret weapon. One at least as dangerous as the Squad itself.

He spat on the floor as he picked up his phone. Grimacing as he said that name again after so many years. There would be no saving Garden now.

"Hyperion comes."


	5. Hopes

The streets were dark when he stumbled from the brush. His immediate response was to start banging on the door of the first house for help. He started towards one to do just that when he noticed something. Looking down over the row of houses on the lane, he saw none of them were lit. Old mountain lodges, whitewashed, with dark wooden upper floors and tall eaves. He thought they might be cultural houses, or tourist stays and blundered on through the streets.

His socks sloshed with every step, his feet hurt and his body was overexerted. "Shit…" he mumbled, repeatedly. Still nothing but interference on the transceiver. Tall, orange-bricked manors with picket-fences and exotic gardens lined what looked to be Garden's upper class boulevard. The manors, as well as the lawns surrounding them were shockingly splendid, yet suffused with the quaintness that gives villages their special charm. But there would be no help here either. All the grand windows with their intricate framework designs were likewise dim. Round street lamps glowed warmly, but the houses were deserted. What the hell had happened while he was gone? A series of tragic possibilities spun through Alec's mind.

He stopped to try and gather his thoughts, but he was still too dazed. He became aware of his head, which was hurting keenly. Feeling around the back of his skull, there was a wound. His fingers came back a little bloody. It reminded him of the crushing embrace the Graveler had given him and counted himself lucky. His chest too, was darkening into a bruise beneath his partially torn shirt. The air was getting crisp and his own hot breath hovered before him. The wet clothes did not help his situation.

He sat down on the sidewalk, exhausted, and buried his face in his hands, emptying his mind. Imagining himself alone in the universe, without burden. It took a while. When he looked up, nothing had changed but he felt better. Finally, it occurred to him that there was something else he should be looking for. He wasn't sure until he spotted a street clock. It finally hit him.

It was well past twenty-one. He had asked Samanthe to set up a town-wide gathering at the local auditorium to take place in the evening. There was little doubt that if Samanthe had believed it was the best course of action, she had done as he'd asked.

He was late to the gathering he himself had set up. Forcing himself to stand, he attempted a run, but began to stumble soon after. Where was he even going? He hardly knew where he was, never mind finding the auditorium. Snatching his phone, he checked the map, but it was outdated and locations were sadly unmarked save for an XY coordinate system. The transceiver function picked up only static. Samanthe was unreachable.

Shivering in his wet clothes, he began to feel hopeless. Between the dark roofs of Garden, a purple light flickered in the sky. They were far enough for it to look like a single dot, but Alec knew it was a platoon on its way. Time was running out. There was no avoiding Death now. He walked on, refusing to give up out of sheer stubbornness. It struck him that he recognized the street he was on - to his right was the Cormacs' home. Their windows too, were dark. As he turned the corner, there at last was his saving grace.

"Late to the gathering, I take it?" It was the old doc with the same snarky voice. He was grateful for it now.

He walked into the light and sat down on the bench next to her, sopping wet. She was unperturbed. Calming guitar music played faintly from the phone she'd set on the bench next to her. "Unforseen circumstances are common in my line of work. I take it you voted against the proposal this time around as well." Flies darted around the lamplight.

"I abstained. It's no wonder you're hurt. you're a brazen man and that in itself is not always a virtue." She pierced him with her gaze. "I'm Clara, by the by."

"I need to get to that auditorium. It's urgent," he blurted, but Clara didn't respond. "I'm going to need help."

"I've no doubt. Won't you look ahead for a minute?" Her voice was patient, but firm. He obeyed her and saw the view for the first time. He'd sat with the doctor on this very bench just hours ago, but failed to see the sight before him. The ground sloped down ahead of them. Over the roofs a pretty picture of night presented itself. A gravel road snaked down the hill, accompanied on each side by quaint mountain houses. At the bottom was an old row of buildings he judged to be the main street. Beyond it an open auditorium, flared with limelight. The open air carried murmurs from the sitting crowd straight to his ears.

"I have to hurry," he said, wincing as he got up.

Her arm blocked him. "Wait. Let me see that bruise."

"We don't have much time, lady. Your town is in deep in it," sounding comically serious to himself.

"Catch your breath. We're a patient people."

He relented and opened his shirt. While she checked him over, he stared at the auditorium - which seemed to double as a football field, perhaps a concert venue - trying to count the rows of people. There were indeed at least two hundred and fifty people present. A majority of the town was accounted for, making Samanthe as good as her word.

"Those bruises are going to be with you for a while, but nothing's broken, at least. Come." She stood. "My house is on the way. I'll lend you some clothes."

Five minutes later they were downhill, by her house. The old doctor went inside returned with a neatly folded stack of clothes. Mountaineering boots, a flannel shirt, hunting jacket and hard jeans. "My late Jason used to wear this when he and his boys went huntin' in the forests. Used to be plenty of game around."

The clothes were on the tight side, but they worked. "Thanks, doc."

"I told you, call me Clara. That's the way it is in Garden."

As they neared the venue, she told him about the village which turned out to be valuable info. "You should know about the headman, Buck. You might have seen his house on Babylon Street – that's where the rich folk live. He is the last of the Garden family to reside in the village."

"The village is named after his family."

"Yes. The Gardens go back more than a century. Ol' Buck's great granddady founded the quarry just north of town."

Alec gave a start at that. "I've been there."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised, but I think I shouldn't be. If you've been there, you must've seen the rock there's unstable. It's a mineral hotbed, supposedly, but there were bad quakes some 20 years back and it's no longer fit for anything."

Alec thought of the yawning hole in the middle of the mining site. He regretted remembering it. It disturbed him and he couldn't place why.

"The Garden estate's still got money. Buck himself owns most of the land around town, but young folk are leaving. I've got two grandsons myself, both of them down the river in Balder. You must have passed it."

"Yeah," it was where he'd picked up Golem at the Ranger Outpost. His heart gave a pang. It was the last time he'd ever pick Golem up.

"Buck's four daughters are there too. Since his Alenna passed away, he's lived in that mansion all by his lonesome. Look at me ramble. I really am an old blabbermouth now," She was looking at the stars as they spoke. The auditorium was in sight now.

"I see. Can you tell me anything about the designated Ranger?"

"Ah, you must mean Herb. Jason and him used to hit up the same tavern back in the day. He's an… interesting man. To be accurate, he's one smart bastard. Honestly, I don't know what to think of him half the time. But good, very competent, not like his lousy apprentice. He was there, leading the men when the beasts attacked us in the night. Next morning, he took off right away to signal help. We're in quite the pickle, alright. We didn't even think you could make a difference after yesterday."

She faced him, as if expecting him to rebut her, but he kept silent. He noted her change of attitude toward him. She must have accepted him as the hope her village needed. He was, after all wearing her dead husband's clothes.

"All we got now is that Berk," she went on. "He's not such a good leader, so Samanthe took his place in organizing patrols around town."

"From what I've seen, she's an important person."

"That's one way of putting it. She's got an eye for business. Owns most all of it in town. Buck trusts her. He lets her lead the council and organize the town."

"She from around here?"

"Yes. Her daddy owned some farms around the countryside, but they went belly-up. After she took over the household, she sold out the land and bought property in town. She just about revitalized Garden, making up a new store and The Hutt on main street. It's a bar with an inn upstairs. Whatever you're planning to do here, she's going to be the one who can make it happen."

He stopped dead in his tracks. They were almost there now. An anxiety had taken hold in his gut. He felt like a choir boy who'd forgotten all his lines before a performance. "I don't know about a plan. I've been to the PDA nesting site. It's bad. We're knee-deep in shit, doc. You were right, there's not much I could have done myself."

Clara's eyes went hard again.

Alec raised a hand. "See that blinking purple light in the sky? It's a helicopter, the head of a formation. I told you about the Death Squad earlier. Your old ranger must have been successful about calling them, because they're almost here. That may or may not have been a good thing he did, but it doesn't matter now. Either way, this town is going to end up the site of a massacre. All that's left is to break the news." He went to the auditorium gates where a group of smokers sat around the entrance, watching their arrival.

"Mr. Alec." She spoke from behind, having paused. "Don't give up on Garden."

"Lady, you don't understand."

"What I understand," she said harshly, "is what you told me earlier. You _told_ me you weren't going to let another tragedy go down on your watch. I've lived my whole life here. If this town were to go up in flames, there would be nothing more for me to live for. What you told me back on that bench was a promise you had made to yourself. Are you going to break your promise now, Mr. Alec?"

Alec took a deep breath. He wanted to turn around and say something, but words didn't matter anymore.

"Thanks for the clothes," he said and dived through the entrance.

Smoke filled his nostrils. Smelled like Garden was a smoking town. His hand pawed his front pocket for the little red box, but patted empty cloth. The box had sunk down to the bottom of river Avard, then a gang of Graveler spilled on top. He was wearing a new shirt now. It was flannel. The jacket was comfortable and so were the boots.

At least I look the part now, he thought, scanning the restless crowd which silenced momentarily as he crossed the field to the portable stage that faced the audience.

Samanthe was addressing the disquieted people, shouting to be heard. Behind her was a row of elders perched on folding chairs. At their head was a big man in a striped brown suit, standing out like shit in the grass.

"I must ask for silence again! I know we're all disquieted and nervous. But we need to stay focused." Her Altaria swooped over the crowd, crying out in assistance. The auditorium obeyed, albeit reluctantly. People were worried and it was not difficult to imagine why. There was a pause as Alec mounted the stage. The heavy man in brown lifted his haunches with energy that betrayed his bulk and shook his hand. "Buck," he said simply.

Alec squeezed firmly as could at that moment. "I'm-"

"The Exterminator, yes," said a neatly-combed man next to Buck.

"You must be the Council, then," said Alec.

"Now, we are." It was Clara. She had come up on stage after Alec and sat on the remaining chair. There was around a dozen folk on the council, all of them seniors.

"I expect there's a reason for your tardiness," said the fart next to Buck.

"Knot that tongue, Casp," said Clara sharply and he did.

Buck cleared his throat. "What that matters is we're all here now. Though I'm afraid introductions will have to wait."

Samanthe glanced back and caught eyes with Alec. The stadium limelights were on. She looked like a singer on stage without a mic. She smiled.

"Now, I'd like to introduce a certain Exterminator who apologizes sincerely for his tardiness. From the looks of him, he's had a hard day, so I'll ask that you respectfully listen to what he has to say. Mr. Alec will propose a plan of action based on what he has seen. The fate of this town depends on him, as it does on this meeting." She withdrew and gave him a nod, then crouched next to Buck who whispered in her ear.

Alec sighed and stepped over.

"Thank you," he said. The auditorium was now completely settled. He let the silence stretch, mostly because he hadn't even decided what he was going to say. It occurred to him an introduction might be pertinent. "My name is Winston Alec. I've been a professional Pest Regulator for over five years. As stated by the woman before me -" Alec realized he did not know how to address her "- I apologize for arriving here so late. I realize you all must be on the edges of your seats. Your home has, after all, been cut away from the world and is in a lot of danger." He spotted the Cormac mother in the crowd. She waved shyly. He found another familiar face too, Berk, giving a disapproving scowl. "I'm here on the payroll of your village council. I was called here about three days ago when the situation had not yet been so dire. I have been the only person who has managed to get inside the village since, as our dear host put it to me, "all hell broke loose"."

"Thank you, Mr. Alec." Said Samanthe. "Now, I'd like to do things in order so we don't get ahead of ourselves. I'll ask you to fulfill the first part of our contract here publicly and lay out your findings. We've all been nervous these past few days, fretting over what the hell is going on. I'm sure everybody here would appreciate to hear a professional opinion."

It seemed a pointless thing now, explaining things as they were. He should be telling all these people to prepare for evacuation. Nothing else would make a difference.

He opened his mouth, then froze. A crazy idea bubbled its way up. Crazy dangerous to be sure, maybe flat out insane. Sometimes, one required drastic measures.

Alec decided to lie.

"The PDAs – Potential Danger Animals – attacking Garden are Graveler. Large, hulking beasts with skins of rock. That much you've known. I imagine some of you have already seen them for yourselves. Nasty pieces of work. They've blocked this town from the outside by boarding up access roads and the antenna, along with the landlines. So far, nobody has come to investigate, or at least nobody has managed to break through. Nobody but me, that is. As far as the world is concerned, we are isolated."

As he finished his sentence, the audience burst into unrest. The final word must have triggered some fear within. Suddenly, all of them wanted to know something. To be reassured, or have their hopes crushed as soon as possible, so the waiting could stop.

A tramping of boot resonated the hollow stage. "Mr Exterminator. Alec. I have a question." The voice was loud. The village people quieted when they saw who it belonged to. Alec turned around and saw it was the neat councilmember, _Casp._ "And I think everybody will want to hear this. Just how many of these goddamn things are crawling out there?"

The question rang out, and a sharp nothingness followed. The two men's eyes met and stayed, hard and unmoving. So far, everything Alec had told them was true. But in order for today's events to have a chance of playing out in his favor, he had to rig the game.

He recalled the rolling tide of living rock. The yawning abyss strewn with boulders. He saw Golem rolling down the hill broken and dying. Nobody could have seen it but him. "The truth is…" It was painful to say. The results of this one lie could bring down mountains on their asses. He looked behind, saw Clara nod at him. She smiled. _The truth is, there are far too many of them. Close to two hundred. I came here with one bastard of a fierce Golem to bring them under control. Hours ago, it was crushed under their thousand legs while we investigated. I managed to herd some dozens straight into the river to drown, but I doubt it even dented their numbers. It's only a question of time till they start running into buildings, knocking them down like dominoes. Run if you can. Take your kids, take the clothes you're wearing, leave the rest and run, run, run!_

That's what he wanted to say. Should have said. That was the truth. Instead, he breathed in deep and said this:

"There are at least two nesting sites of Graveler within range. How many there are exactly is impossible to say, as they are scattered around the forests. My current estimates range in the dozens, which is a high, but manageable number. Until I deal with them, all of you need to hunker down in your houses, lay up sandbags, make up barriers of furniture on your roads and lawns. There is a catch, however-"

Just as Alec was about to explain the deal, a voice rang out in the audience. It belonged to a scraggly scarecrow of a woman. She began to scream. "Liar, liar, pants on fire. I seen 'em! I seen 'em in the forests. There was at least a hundred of them I saw up over on Coneing Ridge! They was like a living rock slide, flattening down the trees!"

It was the cry of a shrill madwoman, but it struck a chord with the terrified village folk of Garden. As soon as the woman broke through their thin veneer of confidence, panic erupted in the auditorium. People burst out screaming, or laughing. Some began, more sensibly, to try and voice their concerns, but were overwhelmed by the cacophony. There was a stirring and folk began to move, to stand up from their seats. This was bad. Alec may have been caught in a lie. Under normal circumstances, it would have been his word against one old crazy lady, but normal circumstances these were not. These people felt true fear. Their homes were being invaded. Their hopes relied on a man they couldn't trust. He almost laughed. They would have been lucky if the Graveler numbered only one hundred.

"Excuse me."

There was a mighty clearing of the throat that quelled the air. The next moment it was so quiet Alec could hear a Murkrow squawk. Behind him, the headman had risen his heavy body from his seat, wiping his brow with a handkerchief.

"I'm sure we're all quite panicked. I too, am scared, and believe me." The headman paused for it to set in. "Like many here, I have spent my whole life among these idyllic forests and rocky ridges. But many here will be too young to remember a time when we have faced crisis before. We persevered, even as we lost almost half of our comrades. Tonight, we are faced with another crisis. We shall hear the Exterminator, who I am to understand has quite a bit of renown to his name. There has been talk of escape from Garden, even among the council. To that, I've only one thing to say. I will not leave this town, even if it means my death." And he sat back down with a plop.

A deathly silence stretched the open space. Samanthe gave Alec a look that meant _say something_. But he could not. Standing tall in front of an entire village, their anger and their hopes balanced on his shoulder, he had not an honest scrap of hope to give them. But there was still the catch.

He clapped his hands together, trying to give off false confidence. "I ask you all to look up in the sky," thrusting his finger skyward. Their gazes followed his hand and he heard whispers as they all spotted the flickering purple dots, which were beginning to resolve into separate entities.

"This is something that has never before been seen in these skies. It is an omen of death. Your main Ranger, the one you call Herb, has been successful in contacting the Ranger Union. They have sent a response team. An efficient, quick, professional team that specializes in destruction. They will evacuate you to the best of their abilities, then they will turn on the flame and this town is done. Nothing but one big, bloody pile of ash."

He waited a moment, gauging their reactions. No panic this time, just silent fear and desperation.

"Some of you may have already seen the results of their work on hushed up internet sources, but I'd wager most of you will have only heard rumors. This is not something the government wants blared from all imaginable speakers. So for now, you will have to trust me. I have a plan. I'm bringing something in. A weapon more ravenous, more horrible, more deadly than all the Graveler in the world. I will bring them to heel, then I will scatter them. But I have to do it before these purple bastards get the go-ahead to trigger their fires."

The scared voice of a young man shot up from the crowd. "But what do you expect us to do?"

Alec stared at the lot of them hard. "You have to stall them."


	6. Revelations

When Alec exited the stadium, he noticed Berk with his back to a wall, smoking a cigarette. His lips were itching for one, and he hadn't known it till then. He decided to throw caution to the wind and asked.

Berk looked him up and down warily, then unfolded the pack and handed him one.

"You sure you know what you're doing, Mr Alec?" Said Berk, eyes squinted mistrustfully.

_I sure hope so_ would have been his immediate answer, so he gave him a reassuring nod and told him not to worry.

"By the way, we ever met before?"

Alec raised his eyebrows.

"Didn't think so. You just look familiar is all." Berk pressed his cigarette to his lips, burned it to the filter and tossed it.

"Mr Alec, our star of the evening," a lilting voice came from behind. "If you wanted a cigarette, you should have asked me. I'll get you as many as you need." Samanthe strutted toward him at the head of a formation.

"I'd appreciate that," and he really would. "Who're your friends?"

"We're your clients, Mr Alec," said the neat council member, _Casp_, emerging from the rear.

"Oh."

"We're to understand you've made the proper inquisitions and hold a firm grasp over the numbers, directions of approach as well as nest locations of the incoming PDAs?" He said, pushing his glasses up his nondescript nose.

"Yes," he said firmly.

"And you've formed a tight plan that will allow you to complete your job without risks of damage or casualty to Garden?" He readjusted the cuffs on his mediocre coat.

"Yes," he lied.

"Very well. I trust you, for now. I just don't want another Infestation 98 right on my doorstep." he scratched his forgettable beard.

"Nobody does."

Samanthe butted in. "We've gone through this, Casp. The die is cast."

The man called Casp glanced awkwardly at Alec and apologized for his thoroughness. Nothing less than the fate of his town was at stake after all and sometimes great events required men to act thorough. He properly introduced himself to Alec, who promptly forgot his name.

After shaking the hands of the rest of the council members and forgetting their names consecutively, Samanthe led the party to the Hutt, where the aftershow began. Alec had to decline a shot of rum – job policy - which the other members dunked with glee.

"The point is," he was explaining Union procedure, which the Extermination Task Force – the Death Squad - had to obey, "they _cannot _begin cleansing until their investigation unit has found proof, first-hand or otherwise, of either greater than average number of assault, or serious injury." The picture or the poor girl, Zoe, flashed in his mind.

"Does that mean the uhh… cleansing unit tags along with the investigation unit?" Samanthe deduced.

"It's the other way around. The Death Squad is a kind of emergency response team, but a team of 'confirmers' tags along. The one thing that can hold them back is this rule. That's where you come in."

At the end of the meeting, Buck gave him a serious look, saying "I understand. We'll do everything we can."

After the council dispersed, Samanthe offered him a room upstairs, which she could because she owned the joint. He gave pretense at a refusal, but she insisted he needed rest and was right. He felt just about ready to topple over. Dragging himself up by the bannister, he found his door next to a little window overlooking the cliffs he'd escaped with his life, at the expense of Golem's.

Shutting the door behind him, he slid to the floor. Dear lord, sitting felt good. He checked his transceiver and tried to contact Larry and was partly successful.

Over the static, Alec heard "..-all you whe… get there…," which he figured was about as much as he needed to know.

He kept his phone close and listened for any sign of Larry's arrival, knowing it might only take him a few more hours to get there. With luck, he'd outrun the Death Squad, and then…

Sleep overtook him. His head slid to the floor with a thud. As he fell from consciousness, slipping from it as if sinking from the surface of a lake, he was gripped by an unyielding horror. Beyond reaching Larry and retrieving Hyperion, he had no plan. Hyperion would not want to help. It only cared to help itself, when it did. It hated being told what to do. And Alec was quite certain it enjoyed killing.

It was a dream. Alec knew this right away - he'd had it many times before. Only made sense it repeated itself now. Part memory, part nightmare, there for the sole purpose of reminding him. He was smoking and it felt good. That was surprising. It's been a long time since smoking felt good in the waking world. Nowadays it was only perfunctory, but it had felt good then.

Black smoke coiled from the cigarette and refused to evaporate. It squashed and contorted, twisting itself around his body. He tried to drop the cig, but his mouth was sewn shut and he couldn't move it. The smoke enveloped his limbs. Struggling to move his body, he tripped and landed splayed on the floor. A thrashed-up, bloody face met his on the ground. He screamed a muffled scream and forced himself back.

Cold terror drenched his whole being like ice, as it had countless times before. Awake, he could never recall the corpses to this extent. In memory they were hazy, blurred. But within the nightmare they were as real as they had been on that day.

Crimson blood spilled in spiral rivulets over the crinkled skin, coiling itself around twisted flesh that draped the fractured bones inside. A mouth-hole with teeth jutting out like spikes. A hand with fingers cracked in reverse spirals. None of it looked like it could ever have been alive, but it must have been.

A rabid scream from behind rippled gooseflesh down his back. He froze stiff. An unwilling part of his mind hoped he hadn't pissed himself in his sleep again. The phantasm of black smoke gripped him hard, pushing him to turn around. The more he resisted it, the more it pushed. He didn't want to see the thing that screamed. Anything but that. It was fear deep as an ocean sinkhole. An exclamation fired in his synapses, warning him that resisting any longer would break him into the void and would scar him permanently.

He obeyed the dream and allowed it to turn him, leaving the corpses at his back. Hyperion stood atop the knoll. It shook violently, rasping, jaw opening and closing._ Hethoughthebeastcouldbepennedhahahowfoolishtheboy _It had never been like that. It was absolutely covered in blood. _itwasamonsteryoudeaniedfearbutyoufearitnowandlookwhatitdonehahaha_ "DID YOU DO THIS?" He yelled, tears swelling in his eyes and it looked at him, eyes bulging, nostrils flaring.

And then it cried. It cried and his ears bled static, the world drunk with dizziness embraced him stars dancing dancing shaking

He was wet again.

"Wake up, Alec!" Her eyes glistened with alarm.

He saw he was in the cabin Samanthe had rented out for him. She was there, putting down an empty glass. Water dripped down his face. "Thanks," he said.

"No problem. You scared us all half to death. Thought somebody was being killed upstairs," she replied.

He stood with an effort. Could feel no warmness in his crotch. Good. Hadn't pissed himself after all. "The council's still here?"

She laughed. "The council are resting their old bones right about now. The night patrol guys are on a break. I'm serving downstairs." She handed him a towel from the bathroom. "Everything all right?"

"Just a bad dream."

"Must have been a bastard of abad dream. What happened to your cute little friend anyway?"

It took him a while to realize she meant Golem. He could hardly reveal it was crushed beneath the stampede he had just denied the existence of. "Ran into a bad situation. Golem…" _was churned to fine bits beneath a living machine that grounds forest to dust _"Had to split." He stretched, heard the back joints popping off one after another. His bones hurt all over and he felt no less tired than he had before his sleep episode.

She gazed out the window thoughtfully. "Hope he manages fine on his own."

Wouldn't bet on it, thought Alec. Then they were both silent. Moonlight seeped through the window, illuminating the quaint room and lighting Samanthe's hair aglow. He thought she looked quite beautiful. She was in deep thought. There was an unmistakable frown on her lips and, for a glimmer of a moment, Alec witnessed a deep, piercing lamentation within.

"Samanthe?"

She blinked. "You should join us downstairs," she said, moving over to the door. Her face lit up and she looked the way she had before, but it resembled a mask now. "You must be starving. We haven't forgotten to prepare lunch for our Exterminator.

"I'll come down in a bit," he said. "Thanks again."

Samanthe nodded and closed the door. He pulled out his phone right away. The transceiver screeched noise. He wound into the room's tiny bathroom and took a cold shower to clear his thoughts. It was more important than ever that he keep his mind clear. He was thankful for the clothes Clara had lent him. The people he'd met in Garden were kind and thought of others, the way residents of small places seemed to. However, it was tough to partake in the village's special charm, what with the doomsday clock ticking out above their heads.

He made his way downstairs. The little barroom whooped to see the man of the hour arrive.

"Mr Alec, we thought you was being killed upstairs back there," some young man with a rifle slung over his back said. A couple of them clapped him on the back as he stumbled to the bar. Berk was huddled in a corner with his buddies. They were drenched in the light of a TV. Alec didn't have to get near to see they were watching a taped rerun of the Showtime Arena (colloquially known as the Cockfighters' League) Brutal Beatdown Compilation. That was bad. He hoped animals tearing each other on the behest of their trainers would be the worst of what they'd be seeing. He sat down at the bar and crossed his fingers. Samanthe served him a decent meal and he dug in.

"Can't say I imagined you waitressed," he told her.

"I don't," she replied amiably, "but it's martial law in Garden, which means nobody turns up for work." She slipped into the backroom with a box. Altaria sat on the bench with a group of younger men. They doted on it, patting it and feeding it crackers. The atmosphere was congenial. Everybody in the room knew each other.

"You know, this little crisis of ours might do us a lot of good in the long run," an old man sitting next to him said, sipping on a fragrant herbal tea. It was the headman, clad in his brown suit. His brow was sweaty and he wiped it routinely with a linen handkerchief.

"The way I see it, there's no time for the long run right now. That's for the survivors to mull over," said Alec back.

The headman didn't lose a beat. "Just look at everybody in here, the people of this town are more connected now than they've been in a long while."

Alec looked over the room and saw that filled as it was with boisterous men and boys, even a few women. They were raising up a ruckus, eating, drinking and carousing all over each other. Alec wondered whether they'd keep their cheer if they saw what he had seen. "There's nothing like chaos to bring people together," said Alec.

"When we come through this, this town will flourish," Buck insisted.

Alec thought it best to leave the man his fantasies. Then he remembered the headman's speech from the auditorium. "You said something before, about the village having experienced crisis before."

The headman laughed, as if reminded of some old joke. Samanthe returned to the barroom with a helping of beer which she distributed among the folk. They parted in her path respectfully, lowering their voices as she came near. She was the one serving them, yet they were the ones bowing to her. She looked like the Garden manager. If that was the case, Alec wondered what exactly the headman's role might be. He remembered the man that silenced a crowd of two hundred just by clearing his throat. The man who sipped his tea so casually beside him.

Buck pointed a finger carved from wood. "Look at that wall, friend."

It was covered in old photographs. A group of men linked together at the shoulder, posing for the picture in front of the newly built Hutt. A middle aged man squatting with a rifle next to his kill, a prime Standtler. His clothes were the same as the ones Alec himself was wearing. He smiled despite himself, thinking of Clara. A farmer holding a pitchfork, mud-soaked Swinub clustering at his feet.

"That's my old man," said Samanthe, hands on hips. "Used to have a couple of farms. Clime got too warm for the cold little piglets later on and we had to sell all our land." She placed a bottle in front of him but he pushed it away. There was something else between the pictures. Something…

It was the quarry. Some decades ago by the looks of it. The infinitely gaping black hole was nowhere in sight. The mountain was carved on the surface, teeming with vehicles and men. Bulldozers, LHD loaders, breakers, scoops, a pair of Conkeldurr carrying equipment. A monstrous excavator right in the center, giant loads of broken stone strewn about. A lively, profitable image if there ever was one.

"I'm curious," Alec said, hypnotized.

Samanthe startled. "Huh?"

"Could the two of you explain just what the hell happened at the quarry?"

She narrowed her eyes.

Buck released a strange noise from his throat. "Well, son…"

A whooping shook the barroom timbers. Commotion stirred up at Berk's table. "The TV! Look at the TV!" Someone yelled. The room settled. Alec uncrossed his sweaty fingers. It was game over. All heads turned to the screen where two large animal shapes collided, particles shimmering. The announcer blared semi-coherently. "Weeell, folks! Looks like we got a threepointhit in the stomachregion as Aurorus draws back, taking defensive action against the foe…"

Slowly, all eyes leveled directly at the Exterminator himself. A whisper: "It's him."

An astonished Berk broke the silence. "You're fucking Winston Allstar!"

Alec faced the well-polished wood of the bar. "That was a made-up name. One I ditched it a long time ago."

"But-but that's you!" He pointed frantically to a handsome young man on the screen, sharply sneering on the Arena ground. The young man on-screen raised his arm, shouting a command. The monster he willed grunted, launch forth toward its his foe. "I have a fricking authographed copy of your face on my bedroom door!" A pretty face, hard to deny, almost unrecognizable to the man sitting at the bar in a small mountain village called Garden.

"Ain't you the guy who whupped Tearstone's ass and almost killt his Salamance?" An old man said.

The headman's sturdy hand fell on Alec's shoulder. "I think you're unmasked now. Just about every man in this village has sat in the Hutt one time or another and watched a Winston Allstar bout. Even if he vanished ten years ago."

On-screen, a monster called Hyperion rammed a four-legged Aurorus, actually knocking it into the air, before slamming it down to the dirt ("aaaand that's a threescorehit, knockoutKO, countdown –oh! The foe keeps attacking…"). Two referee Machoke jumped in and failed to hold the monster back as it hatefully pummeled its opponent even after the victor was clear. The screen flickered and the Beatdown Compilation resumed to some other, more recent match Alec couldn't recognize. He didn't keep up anymore.

"I remember now! You were injured," said Berk. "Attacked by your own mons and almost died."

Alec felt a pang in his gut. His past followed him everywhere he went. He was dismayed to see Hyperion repeated on the compilation. The Winged Furies Match. The one that made Allstar a household name. And Hyperion. It was the snapping moment. Alec glanced away just in time, before it drove the Archeops' long neck into the earth.

"Mr Allstar," a young man suddenly appeared behind him, starry in the eyes, "may I ask for an autograph?" There was a posse of soft-faced boys behind him, all suspiciously in possession of clean napkins.

Alec was thinking about the bluntest way to refuse a crowd. "I-"

A vintage grandfather clock in the corner beat three times, drowning them out.

"Alright, fangirls, playtime is done," Samanthe announced. "The watch continues. I'm sure the Exterminator will be glad to sign all your dirty napkins after we're not in mortal peril anymore." Altaria snapped to attention and strutted out of the room, taking wing to the dark skies, door flapping in its wake. The men stood up disheartened.

"I recommend you get some more rest," he heard Samanthe say to him. "I don't much care about your past. All I care about is your competence. We're going to need you in top shape when the moment comes."

Alec found it hard to disagree with her. He left the stool when his phone screeched. At once he knew what it meant.

"We're here, Alec." No interference at all. "There's some kind of wall blocking the way and I found your van. Jane the Rod's with me. We're holding on, but _it_'s getting restless. Hurry up if you can, Alec."

Alec put the speaker to his mouth. "I'll be right over, Larry. Hang tight."

He went out, giving Samanthe a reassuring nod. He spotted Berk and hurried to him.

"I need your help," he said and Berk gave him a look of newfound admiration that said he'd do just about anything for him.

Ten minutes later they were standing in front of the Garden Ranger Depot. It was no more than a weathered little shack, but it was of no consequence. Berk used his keys to open it and they went inside. Inside was a paltry little equipment storage closet with communication systems that didn't work for lack of connection as well as a tiny living space with a kitchen and a sofe.

While Berk apologized profusely for the mishap they'd had earlier in the day, Alec picked out a decently sprung Injector and took a half-full box of rattling neutralizer needles. He clapped Berk on the back to get him to stop talking and left the place through the garage on a '96 Ranger Issue four-wheeler. By the time he hit the gravel road leading out of town, he was going 50 kilometers per hour.

He resented his past, didn't like talking about it. Now that it had been unearthed in Garden, he no longer felt comfortable there. Not that he did in the first place, given the circumstances. The shadowed forest flowed away and behind on each side. The isolation was pleasant, a sort of respite from burden. But time and the miles went quickly. The treetops cleared, revealing an empty sky. No helicopter lights anymore. They had likely landed already.

A Graveler carcass lay in the middle of the road, arm and leg missing. Another up ahead. And then the wall Golem had smashed through.

On foot the path had taken him hours, but less than twenty minutes on wheels. He dismounted and sprung his Injector, clicking the clip a few times just to be sure. He squeezed through the opening Golem had made and saw his van with a decal of his younger face on its side. It was scrunched together. The metal body was damaged. On the other end of the road was a big, sturdy truck - a large animal transportation vehicle. It was flipped over on its side. One of its back doors laid twenty meters away from the truck.

"Alec, you bastard," Larry croaked from somewhere nearby. A hoarse, painful moan. "Run…"

Jane the Rod, a hulking stone of a woman, laid motionless in a tree, limbs like a fallen ragdoll. Right away, Alec knew he'd done something he shouldn't have. This was all his fault. And punishment would be swift.

Eyes glimmered in the darkness. Something big was approaching, hissing like a steam engine.

Alec ran for the crack in the stone wall to escape. He was almost on the other side, when the monster smashed into the wall and splintered it asunder like a pile of twigs. It clenched his whole arm in one grip and tossed him overhead. His back connected painfully with the roof of his beaten truck. Before he could rise, the titanic thing lifted the van and shook him off. Alec flopped to the floor, scrambling on all fours to get away when it snatched him by his shirt and tossed him into the bough of a tree.

Without hesitating, Alec forced his aching arm to grab the Injector at his belt and pointed it at the titan. Without anticipation, it charged at him, knocking the weapon out of his hand. Alec knew at once his life was over. Then it crawled to a halt and merely rammed him hard against the tree. Its eyes brimming with hatred a hair's length away from his own. He could have kissed it.

As he felt his back being impaled on a sharp branch, he yelled its name.

It roared back, a wall of sound blasting in all directions, killing his ears. Behind Hyperion, the night came alive with dozens of car lights. The humming of an engine, suddenly right behind Hyperion's hulking body. It might have squashed them both, had Hyperion not twisted in a split second, swinging that stalactite of an arm that had been meant for Alec straight at the armored jeep's reinforced chassis. The car was knocked off its wheels, flipping twice before landing on its side. Its occupants disengaged, forming a line beside the vehicle and pointing heavy looking arms. The lights behind them flared like suns. Vehicles emerged from the shadows. The platoon was here.

The Death Squad had arrived, right on time.

* * *

_Hello, KK Lemon here. The story of Garden inexorably rushes to its conclusion. The final three chapters will be specially big and exciting, so if you enjoy reading Garden as much as I did writing it, I'd very much like to know what you think. Send me a review and I'll be eternally glad!_


	7. Hammers

Goldsfield was an old-fashioned mud hole. Winston had forgotten not to wear his new shoes and was now fretting over all the mud they were gathering. He stepped gingerly over the dirt lane, approaching the group of old houses. The whole place reeked of manure. There was farming equipment scattered all over, impotent little chicks scuttling about in the mud. Pigs grumbled in the dark of some barn. He'd heard that most edible meats came from firebreathing animals, but the heat stomach had long been bred out of domesticated variants.

He saw an old man sitting on a musty chair, leaning against the shadowed side of a dilapidated barn. The man sat and stared blankly. When Winston asked him where Haston lived, the man just peered his bulging eyes over him. After a while, he said "Haston's me. All we's Hastons."

Winston suddenly couldn't wait to be back in his clean hotel room where nothing stank. But he was not to be deterred in the face of prospect. "I'm looking for a Greg Haston," he said, not expecting any useful answers.

"Why," the man said and turned his head back to the copse of trees he'd been glaring at. "Why, that's my son."

Winston was starting to get impatient. "What? That tree's your son, old codger?"

The old man craned his long neck back at him. If he was affronted, he didn't show it. His face didn't show a shred of anything, Winston thought. "Greg is my little boy. He just up in that house, Mag making lunch."

Winston knocked on a door that threatened to collapse from it. A tall man in a sweated through shirt barged it aside, wiping dirty hands on his jeans. "Ah, figure you mus' be the kid."

"I'm here for the animal," Winston said.

The man nodded. "Scamp's in the shed with the other Horns."

He stepped outside and lead him over a dirt path to a little shed nearby.

"That Horn's about the mos' ornery we ever had. It mark its damn territory from us and I have to beat it with a hammer ever' two weeks like. Stock like that is dangerous. It could rile up the other Horns to make a run, or hell, attack us. Damn Scamp," he had a hammer in his hand. It was dented and damaged, looking sharp from the cracks.

"I'll give you 300 mark for it, if it's as hard as you say," said Winston. He'd been looking for a mon to fill the gap in his lineup. The underground league had been having a rough season and he was quite desperate, evidently.

The man leading him laughed. "That's city folk for you. I'd pay you 2 mark just to be rid of it. Been planning on taking in to the copse and just bashing its head in for the longest time. Frankly told, I been a little scared of Scamp myself."

Scamp was causing a scene when they found it. In the outdoor pen of the shed, the little four-legged Horn was stomping the ground and stirring up a cloud of dust. Another, significantly smaller horn laid beside it, stone shell split down the back, lucid gel seeping from the gash.

"God damn it, you big sonofabitch!" The farmer hollered, racing for the enclosure. The other Horns were pressed up against the other end of the pen, keeping as far away from Scamp as possible. They scattered as soon as the angry farmer burst in, but Scamp held its ground. It growled at the farmer even as he approached it, hammer high in the air. He swooped it down hard, cracking it square on the back. Scamp collapsed in pain. The farmer lifted the hammer again and brought it down three more times. Scamp rasped in agony, then charged at the farmer, its large, sharp horn cutting air. The farmer recoiled in fright and cursed.

"Take it!" He yelled at Winston. "Take it and never come back!"

Winston threw some money on the ground and slowly approached Scamp. He kneeled down next to it and lifted its head by the chin. It hissed at him madly, but couldn't attack through the pain. Its stone shell was dented all over. Alec pressed a ball of rock dough in its mouth and patted its head. "You belong to me now, bud. Your ploughing days are done," He tied a noose around the creature's neck and dragged it out of the pen. It could barely walk and the haul exhausted Winston after some time. Scamp's body dug a wide rut in the earth and he began thinking it might have died. He was just about to leave the damn thing behind anyway when it began trailing after him. As soon as he found a payphone, he called the Varinoff Company Ranch and ordered a truck to come pick him up, along with the new acquisition.

Inside the loading bed of the truck, Winston saw the creature's back was beginning to arch, a sure sign of growth. It would make a fine fighter soon.

For the first time in a while, Winston Allstar began to feel optimistic.

Almost twenty years later, Scamp was slowly killing Alec 40 kilometers from Garden. Its body had grown exponentially and it was a monster now. Alec had thought the rage would subside as it matured, but it had amplified instead, flowered even stronger than its bulk. It rammed him slowly, with sure strength onto a splintered branch of the tree he was backed up against. The wood pierced his skin, threatening to puncture his back. Hyperion would be the death of him finally, as he had somehow always been sure it would be.

Gunfire.

Bullets popped into the titan's back. Hyperion dropped him, twitching in annoyance. Alec was surprised to find himself plunging a considerable distance to the ground. He met it hard. The monstrosity faced the lights surrounding it. Alec didn't know what to fear more at that moment. Its arms resembled pile drivers, swelling down from pointed shoulders that protruded above its own head. It lifted one flat foot and drove the weight of its entire mountainous body on one beefy, stumpy leg. The land itself rocked in the wake, a tremor that flipped Alec's stomach upside down. Men in dark camo stood among the vehicles, still as statues. Trying not to appear unnerved, most likely.

Hyperion grumbled. A deep, guttural gnarr. The implications were clear. All the men facing it aimed their weapons. Hyperion relaxed. Its scapulas dropped and it took in a deep, howling breath. In the next split-second, there was a dust cloud around it. The explosion of sound followed after. Three men leapt and rolled from its path. Gunfire flashed from all around. Alec had seen the destruction of the Death squad and Hyperion both and it terrified him to see the result of a confrontation between the two forces.

Hyperion stopped dead in its tracks, it's flat hammer fist raised atop a truck cabin. Alec could just barely hear two men, wearing uniforms that resembled priests' cowls chanting "Seize." Hyperion grunted in anger and stomped the ground, paralyzed in place. Atop the truck, Alec spotted a Ralts. A tiny, mysterious creature frequently used by the Squad for reasons Alec was unaware of. He'd never seen one before, but recognized it immediately. It looked like some hideous fairy from Mars.

The air shimmered around it. It was a rare Psychic type, a pedigree of elusive creatures who could manipulate minds, and sometimes the properties of objects from afar by subtly manipulating waves of radiation around them through microscopic nodes in their bodies, which secreted a psionic vibration. The air shimmered in a cloud around the truck. In an instant, there was a crowd of them on all the vehicles surrounding Hyperion. Whatever they were doing was having an effect. It trembled in rage and convulsed, salivating from its jaws. The fairies held the beast in a magical stranglehold.

Then behind it, two matured "Ralts" appeared, of the Gallade genome. The man-sized Gallade simply whooshed into being where before there had been nothing. Robotically in tandem, the pair drew back their arms and delivered a medically precise punch under each of its shoulder plates. After their arms connected to the monster's back, then turned like a key in ignition. A shockwave spread from Hyperion's back, driving it flat on the terrain. The Ralts stumbled as one as their captive moved, straining at invisible cords that bound them. Then, from everywhere at once, men in black sprung from the darkness, carrying assault weapons. As the Gallade stepped back, dozens of nautralizer darts appeared in Hyperion's back, not a single one missing its mark. Hyperion convulsed in rage and consternation, struggling against its unseen prison.

Alec picked himself off the ground in disbelief, pain firing off in every joint. He waddled in the direction of Hyperion as it ceased to move when one black-gloved hand held him back. It was a man in uniform, decorated with the fashionable Violet Vest. Squad men neared the seemingly inanimate body of Hyperion to secure its carcass. In the next second they all would have been dead, had Alec not shouted, seeing its telltale twitch of spinal blade. Muscles in its entire body tensed, breaking the puny needles in its back. The next moment, its weighted tail was sweeping the floor. The Gallade were too close. In their final conscious moments, they released protective vibrations to shield them, when Hyperion's tail club cracked them straight. The air exploded in psionic power and the two mons went flying. Alec once again found himself terrified of not just the titan's brute strength, but its sheer, intelligent _resolve_.

The poor fairies fought to keep control of the evil troll, but its power overwhelmed them. It lifted both arms in the air and roared. It swung one arm – the legion of Ralts sprawled from the trucks. It swung the other arm – and the truck roofs were swept clean. Hyperion gurgled that sweet, terrible laugh. Its bloodlust was rising. How good it must feel to be free to rampage once more!

Then the foreboding electrical sounds of weapons zapping to power. At once, the night lit up in a crimson flare, air shimmering in heat. Alec felt the wave warm his flesh as Hyperion went up in flame. The squad must have been desperate; they were bringing out the big guns one single errant mon, not even PDA.

Hyperion emerged from the ball of fire, a raging dragon. The flames followed after like a comet tail. It spotted the flame thrower and charged toward him. Even as the beam of fire spouted directly in its face, Hyperion never decelerated. Its hand grasped the Squad man who began to shriek. The battle would have been over right there and then, had the Squad been a moment late in preparing the second of its secret weapons. Alec saw the gleaming metal turret through a truck's open backdoor just as it fired, the recoil rattling its titanium hinges. Hyperion staggered, crushing the flamethrower charge in its fist, a gout of flame lighting the sky. The man who had wielded it tumbled from its grasp and crawled away. There was a metallic payload shell stuck in Hyperion's chest. Enough tranquilizer to beach a whale.

It took two steps, flexing its lugubrious muscles, then collapsed two seconds later, rasping like a bellows. After that, all was still until Hyperion's breathing settled. The men in black creeped over, looking more than a little afraid for their lives. An exhaustive procedure of checking its vitals followed. After the men had finally confirmed the creature was indeed knocked out cold, they tied ropes to its limbs, then lashed the chains to three separate trucks to haul it away.

Just like that, the battle was ended. Alec had left any illusion of using Hyperion to scatter the Graveler rank as soon as he saw its own upturned truck. He felt empty now. The whole job had been one major failure after another. He lost Golem, almost got himself killed, lied to the villagers in a move that would now definitely destroy any chance at a future career. Now time was up, the Death Squad was here to decimate. Somehow, he managed to get through it all with his life, but that was little consolation.

The squad member holding Alec back spoke up. "I had a feeling earlier today, just as I was finishing my black tea in the helicopter…" That voice! It jolted Alec immediately. He might have been too soon in assuming he would be leaving this place alive after all. How blissful that had been.

"I had a feeling I'd be seeing _you _here." She spat out the word _you _as if it was disgusting.

"Oh shit," Alec blurted.

Theresa lifted the helmet gracefully from her head and her brilliant blond hair fanned from inside. Her gaze was glacial, hatred concealed underneath ice.

"You've fucked yourself this time, Winston." She said simply. Alec cringed at his own name. "You lost control of your little animal and almost cost me the lives of men. You will be punished for your sins."

Alec felt indignation rising in his gut and suppressed it. He was aware of the ways in which the Squad worked. It was better to say nothing now.

"I am charging you with the following infractions," she continued. "Allowing a dangerous mon to roam without proper restriction or sedation. Losing control of a dangerous mon within range of living persons. Letting a dangerous mon, through incompetence or otherwise, assault human beings. Those are three I am obligated to list at the moment of arrest. The rest will be brought up at the Union marshal."

The fact that his first-degree Regulator's license should have overridden all three was meaningless now. He had no ground to counter Theresa's opposing authority.

"Not going to say to say anything, Winston? What happened to that cocksure bastard I once knew?" She grinned, revealing the gap in her otherwise perfect teeth, a serpentine blade of tongue peering from inside.

"Reality hit him hard."

"Isn't that just too bad."

"I thought so at the time, but seeing your shiteating grin now makes me glad."

Theresa the reputed queen of ice burst out laughing. "Oh, you will be eating so much shit when all this is done." She whirled and walked off, barking orders to seize him through her glottal giggles, steel boots leaving imprints in the earth.

"Oh," she turned back as if she forgot to mention something.

Suddenly, her solid, gloved fist bored itself deep in his gut. The impact of it sent him sprawling in the dirt. Next, her steel heel was pressed against his chest, digging into the lesions that were already there from his encounter with the Graveler. She didn't pay mind to his squirming.

"Cuff him good. This one will try to fox himself right out," And the Death Squad leader made herself gone.

Alec whimpered in self-pity as his vision blurred and he struggled to keep hold of consciousness. He felt his arms clasped in something cold. Then he was lifted off his feet.

With his last strength, he managed to point at the unconscious Larry and Jane. "They need help, take them."

"Escort these people to the helicopter and take them to the nearest hospital," said the Violet Vested second-in-command.

Alec felt himself loaded into a vehicle. He closed his eyes and was gone from the world.

He woke up on the cold steel floor of a moving van. It was difficult to tell just how much time had passed. He struggled to prop himself on his arms, examining his surroundings. There were bars installed in the vehicle and he was on the wrong side of them. His body hurt, but it wasn't near the damage his pride had taken. Images of Theresa grounding him with her steel soles flickered in his mind.

"Ah, shit." The Garden gig had seemed so simple in the beginning. Just a pack of PDA, stirring up some dust. He thought himself an idiot now, but what should he have done? Nobody could have expected how big this thing was.

There was a little window on side of the enclosed space. Alec found himself completely lost in time and peered through it. The morning was just starting to brighten, but there was still more grey than blue in the sky. Greyer still was the river Avard as it rushed away beside them. There was the sound of at least one more moving vehicle. The little window was glass reinforced with steel bars and he had to strain his head to look, but there was definitely a large truck trundling behind. The rumble of its motor was tremendous. In comparison, the little prison van Alec inhabited was cramped and tiny.

Alec had an idea as to just what might be happening. A Ranger in Orange sat buckled beyond the bars. Beyond her, one driver in black. Squad. Meaning the Ranger was a local sent to assist the Squad as they dropped in, likely at a landing base near Balder. The Squad wasn't known for being deferential to their subordinates. They sent the Ranger back with the prisoner, so they wouldn't lose a man for the job ahead.

He slid down to the floor, defeated. Outwitted, outrun, thrashed up and locked away. Golem was dead. The Squad were likely firing up their weapons as he sat there slumped. The town was about to become a Garden of ash. That glacial vixen was finally getting her way with him. That idiotic little sneer of hers, like a twisting snake.

He punched the wall, imagining her face. Ouch. That hurt. Alec hissed, clutching his poor, smarting hand. He saw her again, Theresa, that witch. A haunting apparition, laughing at Winston the hapless bastard who could never find a way to make himself useful to anyone.

He stood up with a fire in his gut, resolving to try for one last time. If there was even a small chance of seeing that hideous smirk break in half, it was worth trying anything. If he was going to try anything now, he needed to know a few things first. Not expecting much, he decided to fish some information from the Ranger.

"From Balder?" he hedged.

She glanced at him nonchalantly and kept to herself. She was little more than a teenager. A novice then.

"I know they told you not to, but as a Ranger of your local Outpost you have the right to question me."

She sighed, swiping at a red streak of hair. "Nobody wants to be questioned. You're the one with the questions, obviously." She snatched a tangle of headphone cord from her pocket and began to unravel it.

"These assholes woke you up in the middle of the night. Those pagers are a pain the ass, aren't they?"

She paused with the headphones hovering by her ears. "You know about those, huh?"

"It's always the rookies who get dragged out to the middle of nowhere at three in the morning."

She laughed. "It's a bad gig, but rangering's about the only thing there is to do in Balder, apart from service. High school diploma notwithstanding." She spat on the floor of the truck. Alec was beginning like her. She put down her headphones then, a sparkle in her eye. "Hey, that big fucking rock dragon back there. It's yours, ain't it?"

Finally, Alec found what he was looking for. "That old behemoth? I've-"

The truck crashed. The steel walls of the metal can exterior scrunched like tinfoil, glass windows shattering in their spaces. Alec suddenly found himself biting down on a metal bar. The Ranger was thrown in her seat, the belt holding her in place. Her head whipped round, buffeting the wall, knocking her out cold.

Alec gripped the bars hard as he felt the truck careen into the rock wall beside. The unstrapped Squad driver was thrown to the ceiling as it did. Serves him right, the bastard. The truck rocked on its chassis violently, almost knocking Alec's feet from under him. There were shards of glass there. Not a good idea to fall, then. With a lurch, the van settled. Alec removed his mouth from the iron bar, tasting salty blood. He licked his teeth and found them all accounted for. He was just about to release his grip, when the light went out from the shattered window. He saw the big truck looming through. It was getting closer. Keeling over. Falling on top.

He clutched the bars tight and yelled. "Fuuuuuuuu-"

An abominable squealing of metal on metal, the roof extruding inward. Finally, all was still. What the fuck was happening? Only one possible answer came to mind, but questions could wait. He checked the window again, found it was all but shattered, the little bars bent out of shape. Between them, on the other side was the dark window of the larger truck.

He examined the rest of his van again. His two holders were both unconscious. There was nobody who could prevent him from attempting what he was about to. _That big fucking rock dragon back there, _was what she said and gave it all away. Inside that large truck was Hyperion. Chained and sedated, on its way to the final needle, most likely.

Alec picked off the bits of broken glass from the edges of the window, then grabbed the bars. He rattled his cuffs and clicked his tongue repeatedly. The truck lay still, toppled at an angle on the poor little prison van.

Alec drew in a breath. "Get out here, Scamp!" He boomed, stomach clenched. No sense being coy about it.

The beast rumbled within. It may have been sedated, but Alec knew well Hyperion's digestion would already be passing the relaxant through its system. Especially if it was angry. Nothing arose the monster quite as well as madness.

"I said get out, you damn Scamp! I'll put the hammer on you if I don't see your Scamp face right now!"

The truck rumbled, sending vibrations through both vehicles. It might not have understood the words, but they got through to it. Alec remembered the farmer who had beat little Scamp on the back with a broken hammer, yelling obscenities and violently breaking its back in.

"Damn Scamp! You shitting little monster!"

It growled.

"Worthless Scamp! I'm taking you to the trees!"

The truck wall banged, denting outward.

"Bastard little Scamp! I'll kill you!"

Its eyes appeared in the window. Then the wall beneath it exploded out, the small rectangle of glass falling clean of its setting. This was the moment.

Alec closed his eyes and yelled. "Scaaaaaaaamp!"

There was a terrible clang and the van shuddered. Alec went sprawling on the floor, shards of glass biting his ass.

Opening his eyes, he saw a clean tear running down the height of the van wall where his window had been. Through the rip, he saw Hyperion tearing at the wall of its own cage, but it was reinforced with bars on the inside. Its sledgehammer arms cut holes in the truck. It was on the cusp of freeing itself. Alec knew he might have less than a minute. He squeezed himself through the opening Hyperion had made in the van, landing on the tarmac road, making eye contact with the monster. He leapt and rolled as the swing of its arm cut a cross into the feeble van. Alec ran around the vehicle for its door. He slid the prison van door open with his cuffed hands and stumbled in, throwing his arms on the unconscious Squad driver. He prodded his pockets and found a hard steel lump inside. He grabbed the keys and slid the first one into a cuff. It popped open.

"Hah!" Seemed lady luck might not be as averse to him as he'd thought. He placed the key into the second cuff.

"Hey!"

He turned around just in time to block a high kick from the Ranger who might have been less unconscious than he'd given her credit for. She stumbled back, leaving herself open. He whipped her with the open cuff and she caught it, yanking him close, simultaneously delivering a direct punch to his gut. He let her finish and smacked her with his shoulder. There was a split-second in which they exchanged one glance.

Comrades in suffering one moment, enemies the next. They went at each other when the van shook.

"Fuck," said Alec.

"What is it?" She asked.

His stomach flipped as the gravity in the truck keeled sideways, throwing them both against the wall. Through the open door, they saw the big fucking rock dragon lifting the van up. They both screamed and held each other like little girls.

Enemies one moment, comrades in suffering the next.

They slid against the van cage, seeing the tops of trees through the door opening. It was going to squash them against the ground. Alec grabbed the driver's keys and placed one that looked appropriate into the cage doors. Click. The prison door swung open and they fell through.

"Jump!" Yelled Alec, pointing to the torn-up wall inside. Without hesitation, they scrambled through the opening and plummeted to the ground.

"To the truck! Weapons!" She blurted. Hyperion whipped its head around, dropping the small van unceremoniously as it noticed their little caper. Alec was first to reach the truck, stretching out a hand to the ranger. Before she could grab it, Hyperion knocked her aside. She took a tumble through the grass on the side of the road and rolled to a stop.

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit." Alec repeated his mantra as he climbed inside the truck cage through a hole Hyperion had made. The cage was battered and wrecked. Along with the cage, a door lay on the floor, torn from its reinforced hinges. There was only one thing a secondary room in an animal hauling trailer could be. He dove through, arriving in the supply closet. Through a slit of window, he could see the unconscious Squad truck driver in the cabin.

Injectors and needles covered the ransacked space. They crunched beneath his boots as he made his way to a closet in the corner. He knew Injectors were useless against the monster. But there was bound to be something else inside that little closet. Some secret weapon of the Squad that could maybe even the odds. Unlikely as that seemed, Alec held his breath and swung the closet door open.

He let the breath go. What could he have been expecting? It was an average tool shed, meaning they were all screwed. The floors of the van quaked as Hyperion howled outside. Alec was getting pissed. All day he'd been dealt nothing but bad hand after bad hand. It was clear destiny would not be giving him the break he needed. _Fine, _he thought.

"I'll just deal my own fucking hand," he said and grabbed a big hammer.

He hopped out the van, the hammer's weight stumbling him off-balance. It was shockingly heavy. That was good.

He caught Hyperion just as it scored its first kill after god knew how many years. Right then, Alec saw his own theory confirmed. What had caused their trucks to crash on the road was the PDA menace itself. A pack of Graveler ran away from the corpse of their dead buddy, toward another one of their beloved rock walls just as Hyperion's arm whistled through the air. The Gravelers' shells shattered on impact, carcasses darting into the wall they had built. The last of them had given up on its escape and simply watched as Hyperion lifted it from the road, then squashed it in one hand, blood splattering its ferocious face.

This was his chance. Alec approached Hyperion from behind, hefting that monster hammer in the air, veins stark against his skin. Dear lord, it was heavy. They were barely visible now, but Alec could recognize them still. The subtle scarring, the dents and healed-over cracks in Hyperion's rocky carapace. Reminders of the cruel farmer who had beating this poor Horn to the brink of death with his weapon of choice. Some wounds never close.

Alec brought the hammer above his head. As it crested, something inside the hammer switched. Suddenly, it was light. Light as air. Alec's mind boggled and the world seemed to sway. Then, with equal rapidity, the weight switched again. Now it was heavier than the Earth itself. Before he could utter an expletive, the hammer went hurtling down, bringing his arms along for the ride.

The force of the ensuing collision rattled bones out of their joints. His body twisted, his fingers came free of the handle. He felt like he'd been struck himself. A bloody crack appeared in the monster's back.

Hyperion keened in shock, lashing out with its arm. It was only a soft blow, but it swept Alec off the ground.

His vision blurred and he smacked against something. Alec forced his eyes open, groping for purchase behind. He caught the bark of the tree with one hand, the other flopped uselessly - the hammer impact had dislocated it. His vision rolled, but he fully understood the gravity of the situation. He placed the shoulder against the trunk and planted his feet in the ground. The joint clacked, a spasm of pain rippling through him. He blinked twice and found his vision clear. To see if it worked, he waved his previously dislocated arm back and forth. It hurt like a bitch but it was back.

Hyperion rasped and growled, stomping the earth. It was in abject consternation, eyes black pinpricks. Alec hobbled to where the hammer was lodged in the tarmac. He gripped the handle and pulled it out. He could barely hold the thing now, but he needed it desperately. He'd finally recognized it for what it was. It was a tool, but one not made for human hands. Rather, a hammer designed for heavy duty work performed by mons bred and trained for it. This was a nifty thing called a lead hammer. It looked much like a regular hammer, but there was a trick to it. Inside the head was a lead weight immersed in a pocket of fluid which shifted with the center of gravity.

"Scamp!" He clicked his tongue, swinging the new toy through air.

Hyperion snuffled in fear, drawing back from the hammer. The little crack in its back wouldn't be nearly enough to bring Hyperion to submission. If the monster wished, it would pummel Alec to the floor and laugh, toy or no toy. But it wasn't doing that. It was scared. The sight of the hammer had brought it to terror.

"Scamp, stay!" Alec clicked his tongue. Strength was immaterial now. This was a contest of wills. Of the tamer and the tamed.

Hyperion rose, stomping the ground madly. Fear was not in its nature, anger and destruction was. He could see the two aspects battling as it determined what to do. But everybody and everything fears something.

The monster broke free from its paralysis and charged. Alec raised the hammer and screamed. At the last moment, Hyperion ground to a halt. Alec remained stoic, unblinking, but his heart was hammering in his chest. Hyperion roared rabidly in his face, flecks of saliva splattering his skin.

"Scamp, stay!" He shrieked, swinging the hammer. Hyperion backed down, dropping on all fours at the sight of the weapon. Its head drooped to the floor in submission. Alec had bested it. He held the weapon aloft, temped to bring the thing down anyway. Right on that sharp, jutting horn. That might actually deal it some damage. Then he heard it whimpering. Whimpering like a little pup, eyes trembling. He saw the little plough creature from the farm who would not give in. Some scars do indeed never heal and Scamp had never forgotten the hammer.

"Stay," he said, clicking his tongue. He turned his back to the creature, affirming his dominance.

"You alright?" He kneeled down next to the young Ranger.

She groaned in pain. "I… I don't know. What's going on?"

"You have your phone on you?"

She shook her head, eyes still closed. She must have already checked.

"Pager?"

"Left it… home."

Dammit, why did she have to be a greenhorn?

"Alright. Take this," he pressed his own phone in her hand. "Can you call the Outpost and tell them what happened?"

"Ughh… think so."

He patted her on the shoulder and stood. He wished he could tell her things get better. Next, he examined the prison van in which he'd been held captive. The driver was sprawled out between the two front seats, still as a corpse. Blood ran down his forehead.

Alec felt a pang of guilt. He didn't cause the crash himself, but it was Hyperion who had done the injuring to two of people that lay at the accident site. Nothing to be done out that now. It was pivotal he prepared himself as best he could, given what he was about to do. He stripped off the squad driver's suit and found what he was looking for. He unstrapped the protection vest, stripped off his shirt and put the vest on, fiddling with the adjustment straps until it more or less fit. He puckered his nose at the smell of the driver's perfume, then draped Clara's flannel shirt over.

Next, he returned to the weapons closet in the other truck and looted through the unholy mess. He picked up a Rifle Injector, capable of firing needles consecutively from a medium distance. Not as powerful as the close-range pistol-type Injector in his holster, but overall a much more usable weapon. He looped the strap around his neck and filled the chamber grip to the max with the needles strewn on the floor.

The armor was already chafing at his pits, sweat building underneath. He pointed the rifle through the shredded housing of the truck and fired. The rifle cracked, whipped. The recoil wasn't bad, but it stung his recently dislocated arm. Exiting the truck, found the needle lodged in a tree more or less where he'd fired it.

He figured he was prepared as he would ever be.

Hyperion was still as a sentinel, head bent down. On one side of them was the river Avard. Ahead, a large mass of rock and gravel blocking the way. It could only have been built by the Graveler Hyperion had just killed. Which meant they had come from the nest to barricade their position. Leading from the forest to the wall was a storm of tracks so flagrant only those blundering beasts could have left them.

Wielding the Hammer, Alec approached Hyperion. He clicked his tongue thrice. "Follow."

He went into the forest. The darkness of the wood enclosed him when he heard those heavy footsteps trail after. Soon, Hyperion got the gist and followed the tracks at a pace Alec could hardly match in his state.

He clicked his tongue again. "Mount," making the creature grudgingly lower its back. After all those years, it had still remembered the training he had given it, and the commands that came with it. Alec felt he should have been surprised, but he knew Hyperion was intelligent. It would resent and condemn, but it wouldn't forget. He placed one foot on its spinal blade, grabbing another above, mounting Hyperion like a garbage man at the back of the dump truck. His hand slapped its back. "Go!" he yelled and Hyperion obeyed.

Hooking the hammer through his belt, he put it to rest. The assault weapon click-clacked against his armored chest.

They sped through the forest together, on their way to the final confrontation. Alec knew he'd been blessed with another chance. Somehow, he'd managed to turn the tables in his favor. Unbelievably, he'd managed to bend Hyperion to his will again. He was Winston fucking Allstar, for once doing the right thing.

At that moment, the Death Squad must have been clashing with the villagers who would undoubtedly fight to protect their homes. They might feel the earth trembling with Hyperion's steps as they passed them by.

At the end of that road was the quarry. Waiting for their arrival, hundreds of Graveler beneath the sickening allure of that dark abyss.

Ready or not, the final confrontation was here.


	8. The Horn

Embers of sunlight pierced the pine branches when Alec was thrown off Hyperion's back. He'd been half-dozing astraddle, muscles in his arms and hands so sore they were practically melded to the hold they were gripping. His limbs flopped uselessly and got him tangled in a canopy of young pine, neck hanging by the strap of the rifle, which was stuck in a branch. He wriggled and lounged, heard the branches cracking.

He had time for one "Oh no," before crashing down through the trees.

He struggled to his knees and felt himself. Crap. The hammer was missing. He searched the ground desperately for it. Depending on how things turned out, it might be the only thing capable of holding back his monster. He found it twisted up in some dry brush and hooked it back into his belt, dusted off his pants and hurried off after the hulking behemoth that served as his mount. Rising over a slope of forest floor, he saw there was no need to rush anymore. They were nearly there. Gross apprehension welled up inside him. The river Avard stretched toward both horizons, a pile of Graveler corpses forming a partial dam in the river. The very ones that fell into the river chasing after him and Golem.

Golem. Damn. He missed that simple creature.

He watched Hyperion, his weapon, feeling an odd sort of affection. They had a shared history between them, but rocky from the start. Scamp had grown up to be a magnificent beast, but its temper had wrought death. Hyperion was famed for its smackdowns in the big Arena, but there were no trained referees in the underground leagues to stop it when it had built up a bloodlust. It would kill and maim its opponents, often enough causing damage to the opposing trainers themselves. Toward the end, Allstar had risen to the top of the slag heaps through fear. Nobody was sane enough to risk entering the ring with Hyperion anymore. Its rage never settled either. Not even Allstar could control it by the time the Championship Semi-finals rolled around, however Allstar was nothing if not vain. He wasn't going to retire his frontrunner and risk his beautiful career out of caution. In the end, somebody else paid the price. How many times had he dreamed about the corpses in the woods?

Shit. The thought of it made him want to be sick.

Hyperion approached the river unremittingly, as if it could bend nature itself to its whims. Alec had planned for them to follow the tracks alongside the river toward the horizon where there would no doubt be a crossing. Instead, Hyperion simply waded into the murky water until every inch of it was submerged, then disappeared.

Of course Hyperion wouldn't care about a measly stretch of water. For a while, nothing happened. Alec waited to see what would. Perhaps Hyperion would just drown in the Avard and that would be that. A comforting through. By the might of everything holy, Alec needed a cigarette right about now. The waters parted on the other end and Hyperion emerged from the water, lumbering over the far bank, shaking the water off.

"Dammit," he cursed and made his way down to the bank. Hyperion was already starting off toward the direction of the quarry, heedless of him. He had to get across the river fast. Scanning the bank, he found a part of the river where a fallen log and the piles of Graveler bodies made a haphazard crossing and treaded over. He was knee-deep in water, jeans pulled up and carrying his boots by the time he reached the other end, his legs sloshing. An irrational fear had gripped him halfway, sure that one of the dead Graveler would suddenly open its eyes and drag him down to the riverbed below.

When he hauled himself over the bank, Hyperion was already far away. It wasn't difficult to spot though, given that the horde of Graveler had just about done away with most of the trees and undergrowth in these parts. If left unchallenged, they would flatten the whole expanse and establish their central nest. He sped after his monster with as much energy as he could still muster. The carnage would be starting soon, after all. He would be remiss not to catch it.

It astounded him, just thinking of all that had happened up to this point. He arrived in Garden, a village teetering on its brink. He lost Golem to the horde, but still managed to scheme the villagers into complying with his madcap plan. He was unmasked in the Hutt and battered by Hyperion, then arrested by Theresa herself. Nothing seemed to have gone to his plan. Yet here he was, Hyperion at his heel. Somehow, it had all worked. Now, the value of his actions would be decided. The showdown was here.

Apart from a light, fluttering breeze, everything was still. The calm before the storm. The yawning hole stared at them like a black hole, stretching the height of the quarry from the ground to the top level. It was impossibly black, almost hypnotically. Alec found his gaze completely consumed by it until he shook himself out.

The horde of Graveler slumbered below, rows upon rows of dormant boulders not unlike headstones at a graveyard. His monster stomped in front, taking it all in. Calculating the odds? Forming a plan? Alec wished he could crack the creature's skull and peer inside. Just what would he find there?

For a moment, the harmony of morning impressed itself on him. His breath wisped before him into the chill air. The sun burned orange, lighting up a thousand shards of dew on the tufts of trampled scrub and upturned trees.

Then Hyperion raised its voice.

It echoed over the flat land and over the cliffs, extending north into the mountains. The roar of a true monster.

The boulders sprawling the valley like ants began to stir. Alec's heart thudded in his chest and it struck him. Just what the fuck was he doing here?

A giant Graveler reared atop one of the pathways carved into the stone precipice – the Alpha. It was too large for its own good, crawling on all six appendages like a bug. It responded, acknowledging the challenge, then it howled at the horde beneath it.

The battle was starting. Only Alec was afraid "battle" wouldn't cut it. "Massacre" might fit better after all was said and done.

All the Graveler, from front to back were rising, a hundred stone devils. The Alpha barked in response to Hyperion's challenge and its underlings picked it up, turning the sound dreadful, like an avalanche during storm.

Alec tried to quell the rising panic in his gut. They were entirely on their own here. The villagers were holding back the Squad in that very moment. Nobody would be coming to their aid. It was everything he'd been working toward since the night before. Now it was here and he regretted it all.

He tried to get a rough estimate of their numbers and came up at something between a hundred and fifty, and two hundred. Though the better part of them were upright, they had yet to move, waiting for the Alpha to command them.

Hyperion and the Exterminator. The two of them were almost laughable, standing against an entire army of beasts, but it was too late to back out now. He'd set the game in motion, all that was left was to see it played out.

He remembered he still had the Injector from Berk's Depot and unholstered it. _Click._ Four darts in the chamber. The rifle with one arm was locked and loaded, ready for action. He grabbed the hammer at his waist and approached Hyperion.

"Scamp!" It gazed down at him, annoyance apparent in its eyes. This was _its _fight. One it had been hankering for since the final days of the Championship. Alec pointed the hammer up ahead at the army of beasts, then rapped it gently at Hyperion's chest. _He_ was the master here. He had brought the creature here to fight, but it would do so on his terms.

Hyperion snuffed in reluctance and turned toward the horde.

The alpha Graveler's voice rang out, spurring the front line into action, sluggishly in tandem. Alec counted sixteen of them as they began to crawl toward them for the first round. Behind them, the further rows were stirring as well, no doubt preparing for the coming onslaught. Alec replaced the hammer and hefted the rifle. A single Graveler may not pose much of a threat, but they would overwhelm them with numbers as they had the previous night when they engulfed Golem. This time there would be no running away.

Hyperion didn't move an inch as the score of beasts made their approach. They lumbered awkwardly over the terrain. Their bodies all seemed either thin, old, or beaten. There was some evolutionary strategy at work here. The first wave of attack would be the most expendable members of the horde.

Hyperion huffed a splat of gunk from its jaws in disgust. Alec had no doubt it was enraged with the response its challenge was given. All at once, the stillness broke. Hyperion catapulted straight for the head of their formation, like Golem had done in its last resort. Alec remembered liking Golem to a bowling ball scattering its opponents like pins. Hyperion resembled something like a massive artillery shell.

Bloody shards of stone burst in all directions. One split shell went flying through the air, blood arcing behind. Hyperion grabbed two Graveler and raised them up with ease, then smashed them together like eggshells. The two remaining Graveler to its left were still too smitten to notice the monster claw their bodies apart with one strike. The ones on its other side were mindlessly bustling toward it. The largest of the pack reached its side, raising its arms. Before its fists had the chance to even clench, Hyperion's neck pivoted 180 degrees and chomped down. Gelid blood exploded from its jaws with a horrible _gurksplat._ The behemoth roared at its still-living attackers, bursting over them a gout of their companion's blood. They collectively shrank back. It had killed half of them in the span of seconds.

Alec couldn't watch with rapt attention for long, as footsteps came at him from the side. Two overweight Graveler were shambling his way, supporting their bulk with their lower arms. Alec raised the rifle, lining up his vision to the iron sights on the barrel's top. He pressed the trigger and the weapon pistoned away at his shoulders. The barrel whipped up, spraying a burst of needles.

One Graveler looked surprised at having his face pierced by five metal darts. It attempted to have a little sit-down, but the counter-element was doing its work by then. It collapsed to the ground with an impotent grunt and lay still. Its friend whirled in bewilderment.

The rifle cracked, releasing another burst. The second Graveler's side went limp and it toppled, however, it was too large for the poison to kill it completely. Its eyes locked with Alec and it used its functioning side to crawl toward him.

Alec took aim at its head when he felt his sides grappled. A big one had embraced him from the back, which might have crushed his ribs had he not been armored. Another pair of arms enfolded his shoulders, disabling him from aiming the rifle. He felt a flush of hot breath on his neck and rolled his head to the side as the beast bit down on it. Its jaws closed on air. Alec wriggled his arm in its hold, groping for his belt.

The top of his scalp tickled. Its maw was again upon him. He snatched the pistol Injector from his holster, simultaneously firing the rifle into its arm. He pirouetted in the creature's loosened grasp, driving the Injector into its jaw. He pressed the trigger.

The needle punched through its jaw just as it bit down. Alec heard the raw squelch when the needle stabbed through its brain. Its eyes went cross and its body grew limp, but its grip still held him fast. Alec cursed under his breath as its lifeless body drove him to the ground. He fell back first, side tangled with the rifle's strap, pistol Injector flying from his hand. In the next moment, the crawling Graveler had him by the ankle.

He'd had enough of this. Alec screamed, lounging at his attacker. The Graveler looked up just as he brought the lead hammer down between its eyes. His arm vibrated as the skull caved, the blow cushioned by the gooey matter underneath. Alec got to his feet, dislodging the hammer from the carcass head. His breath was hoarse in his throat. He turned toward the center of the battlefield.

Hyperion was in the heat of battle, blood glinting on its carapace in the sunlight, its plated armor coated in limpid fluid. A Graveler dangled spitted on its horn like pork roast. Hyperion shook it off, dispatching the last of the second wave. One survivor was running away where it came from, dragging a tail of its innards behind. The impeding third wave of Graveler trampled it underfoot. So many, Alec could hardly count them all. This was a war.

He'd barely escaped his own encounter alive. It reminded him an attack could come from anywhere, so he limped toward Hyperion, covering its back. Or rather, covering his own back with its back. Hyperion growled matter-of-factly, stomping toward the incoming army. Ahead, more were gearing up. The Alpha itself was clumsily sidling down the rock, readying itself to participate in the carnage. There was no ceremony as the Graveler clashed with Hyperion once more. The monster was fully immersed now and worked with a controlled rage. It swung smartly, mowing down heads like an expert farmer scything his crop. The Graveler failed to envelop him, losing the advantage of their numbers. As soon as they had clashed, Hyperion forced them back, forming a half-bubble around him. The other troops then attacked in broken unison, allowing Hyperion to trash them in each direction. A regular hail of broken body parts and rock shards now fell. Alec lowered his head and raised his rifle. He dispatched Graveler trying to flank Hyperion, taking potshots at the ones further back in between. He trained his eye on the Alpha. It was still too far away, but disposing of it would go a long way to breaking the horde.

Hyperion was untouched and untouchable. The Graveler pressed it all around, but could not get within reach. A spindly Graveler with freakishly long limbs grabbed one of its arms, but failed to even slow the monster's swing. As Hyperion walloped, the pitiful being held on and was dragged half circle, shattered on the bodies of its companions. Still, as more and more of them awakened, the back rows pushed the inner rows closer and closer to Hyperion. Alec, seeing his safe zone around Hyperion was closing him in, darted away and tossed himself into a roll to escape through the legs of an incoming Graveler. He ran away from the horde of beasts pressing themselves toward the center where his living weapon stood. One of the Graveler tried to catch him, but Alec quickly punched a dart through its eye with his sidearm. He kept running, threw himself over a ledge and climbed over a dull outcropping onto sloping ground. Up ahead, two levels above, he saw the Alpha shuffling down awkwardly. He made a dash for it. Below and to his right, a hundred Graveler pressed Hyperion in the very midst. The beasts acted like a living landslide, using their own inertia to push themselves inward, crushing their enemy. Soon they were climbing over each other, closing Hyperion in completely, climbing over him, then Graveler climbing over other Graveler. An ant mound.

Alec would have again pronounced Hyperion dead, if he hadn't have seen the way it resisted the Death Squad to the bitter end. It built up a shattering roar from inside the living fortress the Graveler had ensconced it in. The pile of bodies wobbled as Hyperion moved, picking up momentum like an avalanche, rising, rising. Finally, the heap collapsed and a ripple gave way through the crowd. Hyperion burst out on the other side, looking not much worse for the wear. Two Graveler still clung to it, but it paid them no mind. It whirled on itself as early as it had exited the crowd and charged right back in. Now its charge had built up force. The Graveler were flung away in both directions. Hyperion cut through to the other side, cleaving a gash in their formation.

The army of mindless beasts swarmed in confusion, bustling in a thousand directions. The outer rank was breaking up in the madness. But Hyperion wouldn't let them. It doubled back, ploughing straight through, drawing an "X" mark through the justling circle of attackers. Only they were barely attacking now. The confusion had spread into panic. Alec turned away from the spectacle below. He was now at an intersection where the inclines leading to the upper and lower levels met. The Alpha was around the corner, preceded by an entourage of bodyguards. He hid in a fold within the rock, waiting for the right moment.

Hyperion split the air with a deathly explosion of sound, then went to town. It butchered gleefully, gutting all living things around it with malevolent precision. It was like a machine of death, turning beings into carcasses in all its vicinity. The bubble of distance around it reemerged, only now it was widening. The Graveler that had been pressing in on it with heavy numbers just minutes before were now dispersing in pandemonium, leaving a vast crater around the rampaging monstrosity.

The butcher kept cutting. Anything it came near was ground to bits. The concept of fatigue seemed antithetical. With each impact, it _gained_ power. With each strike, an enemy _shattered_, exploded into a million pieces. It was no longer leaving corpses. Just blood, bits and guts. The translucent fluid now oozed down the length of its body. It was entirely slick. Any more and it would have to swim through the blood it had spilled.

Gradually, the battlefield changed. The ground was no longer flat. It was completely covered with guts, broken pieces of limb, shells, shards, organs, fingers, eyes, teeth, caps, morsels, stones, horns, arms, paws, joints, bones, goop, crumbs, chunks, hunks, scraps, shreds. Hyperion kept swinging, growling and bellowing madly, but its swings had lost any contact. The circle was now so wide apart, it could no longer reach any of its enemies. The Graveler lines were receding.

Alec noted the incoming entourage nearing his location. He sprang from cover, soaking the group of animals with needles. They were a fair group. All the Graveler that had rested on the quarry shelves had gathered here into one body. He pressed down on the trigger and held it. The weapon rattled, pain in his shoulder joint flaring with the recoil. The moving boulders dropped one after another, helpless to get within reach. The rear guard clambered over the carcasses to try and get close enough to attack. Alec screamed when his arm felt like it was about to come off, pincushioning the last of them, then the rifle went still. _Click, click. _It was out. He tossed it away, unholstering the pistol Injector.

The Alpha growled painfully in the midst of the corpses, shell caked with needle heads. A rocky "corpse" moved to his right, but he'd been ready since he saw it twitch its foot. He jumped straight at it, planting a needle in its eye, then pulled away. The Alpha shielded its eyes as he went for it, springing the clip, then stabbing a needle in its side. It swatted him off unsuccessfully and he punched the last dart into its nape. The creature arched in pain as it rolled on its back, kicking pitifully in the air.

Alec unhooked the lead hammer, felt the weight inside it shifting to his side. As he raised it, the lead weight worked against his muscles, making him draw the limits of the force in his arms. At the crest of its arc, the weight dropped into the hammer's bell, dragging with it all that built-up force. The Alpha guarded itself with one arm, which met the hammer. A painful throb screamed up Alec's arms as it did.

The arm shattered at the joint, dangling loose. Alec swung again, as the beast protected itself with another arm. The hammer tapped a lovely beat as it crushed the bones inside. The animal flipped over on its side, unable to maintain a balance, inadvertently pinning two of its remaining arms under its own bulk. Alec hefted the hammer above his head, veins stark against his skin. The Alpha's eyes blinkered pathetically, before they met the bell end. The skull caved with a crack, but the creature wriggled still. Alec lifted the hammer and smacked down again. Alpha twitched, shuddered, flailed. The hammer drifted limply, weakness creeping up Alec's tired hands. The Alpha was still struggling, groaning bloody cries in the muck.

"Time to put you out of your misery," said Alec, bringing the hammer in the air for the last time. The final swing nearly cost him his arms. It dropped low in a wide arc. His hands came free at the last moment before impact and his feet dropped from under him. The Alpha's head splattered over the stone.

Alec's arms throbbed. His muscles felt like soft chewing gum. He wheezed on the floor, straining to get to his feet. Suddenly, the ground shook under his ass. _Fuck. No time to lose. _He grabbed the hammer and ran for the lower level of the shelf. Fissures split the stone and began to crumble loose. A Graveler was catapulted into the quarry wall above him. The battle had escalated to the point of triggering a calamity. Everything was trembling. He looked behind to see a shower of dust and stone disgorging from the cliff. He leaped over the edge of the shelf, rolling on the ground, then dragged himself away behind cover. It was just in time. The stonefall engulfed the cliff, scattering rock and scree. Boulders broke off and planted themselves in the soil below. A cloud of dust warped the sun.

Hyperion was reduced to a shadow in the haze. It slowed, seeing the landslide. Its whole body heaved, heavy with breath, wisping the dust. It drew back and roared at the reduced Graveler numbers. The hapless bastards drew back, tripping over each other. Without hesitation, Hyperion charged the other way and slammed a mass of Graveler pressed up against the precipice, unsettling it further. It kept on reducing. Alec doubted if anything could stop it now. It would continue to hunt down any remaining packs of Graveler until the Death Squad finally came in and put a stop to it once and for all. Alec had no doubt Captain Theresa would use all of the Union's resources when it would come down to it.

The dust from the stonefall was clearing. The Graveler kept steering away from Hyperion, some clustering at the edges of the precipice, others attempting to flee into the dark hole, which proved difficult as the path was cluttered with jags and boulders. Hyperion seemed somewhat calmed down. It came to a halt and began to howl, gnashing its teeth.

The Graveler now began throwing themselves down on their bellies, turning their faces to the ground in utter submission. Hyperion was bringing them under its own mad control. Alec got to his feet, hardly believing it. The Graveler were near-halved in their numbers. All the survivors bent their heads, giving themselves in. They were waving the white flag.

"Holy shit," Alec gasped. "Holy shit." They were winning. No – they _had _won. It was over. It had worked. "Holy shit." The quarry was settling; the crumbling façade came to rest and the sun burned all the brighter for it. But something still wasn't right.

Pleased with its new horde of submissives, Hyperion growled inquisitively. A ripple of groans spread out from a cluster on the far side from where Alec was sheltered. Hyperion trundled over to them, leaving the rest at its back. That put the nail on the coffin - leaving one's back exposed to its underlings was proof of dominance. The Graveler gave way to Hyperion as it passed. It went inside the black cave.

Thunderstruck, Alec got up and ran after. As he loped over the vast expanse of ruined battlefield, he saw the Graveler were deferential not only to Hyperion, but him as well. At least there was that. The cavern entrance loomed over him like the mouth of some ancient creature, jagged rock outcroppings lining the inside like teeth. The place reeked of gas. As he approached inside, he heard echoes of an alien mewling. Like a crying child, but odd and distorted.

He went deeper. The chill draft made him shiver, but it felt _good_ somehow. The abyss was inviting him deeper.

He came into an open space with a pool of water. The stench was now suffocating. Hyperion was bent over something, gorging itself. Unable to stuff more into its mouth, it raised its jaw up at the cavern roof and - _squelch squelch -_ swallowed them half solid. It had more of them in its arms, yet more spread out before it. A banquet fit for a king. Alec's stomach dropped when he saw them.

It was eating Graveler pups - tiny, unformed Geodude. They were covered in a layer of blue, gooey skin, their Stone shells yet to form. All of them were mewling, crying out almost like a daycare of human babies. Hyperion scooped them up in its arms greedily, stuffing them in its murderous jaws, half-chewing, half-swallowing. Alec could do nothing to stop it. He stood there paralyzed. His head would not turn away. His eyes could not avert.

He lifted the hammer and yelled. "Scamp!"

It paid him no heed.

He brought the hammer down on its back, but it was a paltry effort. He was beyond tired. Hyperion snapped at him, flicking his body away. Alec was thrown to the floor, barely able to pick himself up. He raised the hammer again, hardly able to lift the damned thing. Hyperion whirled again, nearly impaling him with its sharp horn. It smashed its arm into the ground, driving Alec back. It was disputing his control. Hyperion wasn't his to command anymore. There would be no stopping it now, either. He was disarmed and useless, at his wit's end and Hyperion had an army. Alec doubted there was anything he could do now to prevent the behemoth running free in the world to cause havoc. He had created a monster.

It returned to its eating. The sounds it made were demonic. The munching, the crunching and snarling, the biting and chomping, croaking, and the mewling…

A reverberating bang.

The cavern tremored all around them. Cracks appeared in the ceiling, a shower of dust flickering off. Clara had told them the quarry was unstable and its walls went down in a stonefall mere minutes ago. Now the roof was collapsing. The whole cavern was about to come down on them.

Another bang. The cave walls shuddered. Hyperion just stood there, swallowing the young. There was no time. Alec took flight and ran for the entrance. A rhythmic banging came from above. It was as if the cave was being hammered into the earth. He emerged out into the light. The Graveler stood in a semicircle in front of the entrance, still as statues. Their gazes were upturned toward the lip of the cliff. Alec tried to follow their sight, but found himself too near the precipice. He backed away slowly, finally seeing a figure on top.

The abyss was breaking down. Boulders rained from the roof inside. The walls split and foundered. Hyperion bellowed from within, finally seeing the coming demise. The rhythmic sound of its stampede was getting closer. The roof caved in, an unimaginable mass of stone bulging inside. Hyperion ran for its life, still slick with the blood of its enemies. It smashed through jagged outcrops blocking its way, getting weaker with each step. It seemed the hustle had finally exhausted it.

The abyss crashed, pregnant stone driving the earth flat. An explosion of rock and dust erupted. Alec shielded his eyes, the shockwave flapping his hair and clothes. After that, he could see nothing. The dust had once again swallowed the light. Soon a slight breeze wafted through the valley, rustling whatever was left to rustle and clearing the dust away. What would the falling curtain reveal?

Alec heard it before he saw it. Hyperion bellowed in agony. It had almost made it. Its head poked free from the rubble, squashed beneath the hundred tons of rock and gravel. It whipped its head this way and that, struggling. The stuff that entombed it ruffled with its movements, but it wasn't getting free anytime.

The figure atop the lip appeared above the mound of collapsed dirt. Alec's jaw dropped. It was impossible. The creature he was seeing was supposed to be dead. Yet… it was the only thing that made sense. He remembered the night before, as he scaled the cliff on Golem's back. It had done away with their pursuers by hammering the ledge of the cliff, bringing it down on their heads. And now, at the end of everything, Alec had witnessed Golem's repeat performance.

It was battered and wounded, shell cracked all over, but it lived, trembling as it stood on its legs. It slid down the earth on its shell, tumbling to the ground. Alec ran toward it, astonishment supplanting all other feeling. Golem held him back with one paw, red eye turning toward him. It growled.

"You're alive, buddy," Alec said. He glanced at Hyperion's head lurching in the landslide. Golem had brought the mass down on them, hoping to catch Hyperion inside. What was it trying to do? Could it have recognized the precariousness of the situation and acted to save its own kind? In that moment, Alec realized. Golem was alive, meaning the Graveler hadn't killed it. They had taken it back to the lair as one of their own.

Golem hobbled to where Hyperion lay buried. Hyperion growled toward it, but it was empty of fire. Alec detected fear in its eyes. Golem stood just out of reach of the monster's jaws.

Hyperion desperately lounged its head, snapping its jaws, huge teeth closing just shy of its last opponent. Golem readied itself. Hyperion bit down a hair's breadth away. In that split-second, Golem sprang. Its rough arms enclosed around the shiny blade of horn atop Hyperion's head.

The big fucking dragon rasped in panic. It pitched its neck wide, urgently striving to shake Golem off. Golem's feet trailed in the mud, digging wide ruts. It held on fast, body shivering with intensity. Hyperion's neck spasmed, locked in place. It pulled away, dragged to the left, pushed away and Golem held on. Hyperion's skin was going grey. Veins protruded violet in its neck.

Golem pulled. The damaged crust of its carapace cracked from pressure. Its wounds bled. Hyperion howled in utter hopelessness and dismay. Alec stood frozen in place.

The horn split.

Golem flew back, split horn launching from its hands, blood showering from the cut-off as Hyperion howled in the sky, eyes going white, blood draining from its head. It cried one last, sorrowful note and thudded lifelessly to the earth.

…

Alec made his way to it. Hyperion's head was completely grey, stone-cold. He caressed its rugged skin, touched its veins just to be sure.

He turned back to see Golem getting up on its feet. It growled at him, a trace of that old bubbliness in its voice. It had done well by its master.

The horn fell from the sky, skewering a Graveler through the head.

"Oh," said Alec, fingers on his dampened cheek.

Tears.


	9. Loose Ends

"You hear a lot about dangerous animals on TV these days. Road blockades, attacks, 'terrorism' in previously safe, intact neighborhoods. Families move out. Injuries are sustained. People die, yes, sometimes. These animals form into packs and they reclaim their lost territories. Some of them come from faraway lands in search of hospitable ground. Then there's the ones that just like killing. Those exist too. Far be it for me to deny. Whatever the reason, they pose a threat and they're usually big. A problem to be dealt with. Yeah, this is where I make my money. Well, we're overlooking one glaring-ass part of the equation.

Let me explain."

* * *

It was a beautiful red dawn in June, the dawn of the infamous Infestation 98. The powers of the government and Union combined couldn't cover that one up. It all started, as you may well know, in Farmer Jones' East Ramsburg Plantation – an abattoir. Meat is the key attraction on any apex predator's plate and man is no different. We like our meat fine, gristly yet soft. So we breed the creatures with the best and the most. Emboar, we say. The best meat comes from Emboar. Originally, a savage kind of fire-gurgling pigs found in volcanic hinterlands. However, only a madman would be willing to get roasted by a firebreathing boar for want of meat. So, over the course of decades, we kindly bred that pesky nuisance out of their DNA. I'm talking of course about the heat glans in their secondary stomach. We became so confident in our breeding abilities we even stopped cutting the glans out after birth.

I mean, even if a little accident did occur here and there, we had trained handlers for that sort of thing and they put a stop to that as soon as it happened. Only, on that beautiful morning in June, it happened too much all at once, and too suddenly. Some latent gene in the livestock prevailed. That day, the slaughterhouse workers found the place a bit humid. They went to turn up the refrigeration only to find it clocked up to max. Before they were even able to figure out what was happening, the place was scorching.

No, there wasn't a single plume of fire breathed that day. Yet the heat glans in one solitary creature did discharge. They discharged pure heat. That and hormones, which the other swine smelled, awakening them too. It happened in the span of breakfast.

The workers fled to the exits, skin on their arms peeling, clothes melting into their bodies. They grasped the iron gates and found them welded shut from the heat. The jaws of iron had closed before they had a chance. Trapped in a furnace, their screams were heard in the surrounding towns and villages of Ramsburg, one of the most populated regions on the continent.

Fire engulfed the building. The walls crumbled and the livestock were in tumult. They exploded from the collapsing abattoir and raged forward in all directions. Before the Rangers could fully comprehend the maelstrom of shit that had just hit the fan and assemble helter-skelter dispatch units, the animals were free to wreak chaos. And breed. Entire masses of land and numerous counties were quarantined.

Hundreds of PDAs were hunted down and killed, yet it was impossible to keep up with them. For every pack that was put down, another emerged in a clean area. Months had passed and a new generation of emancipated Emboar was fledging. Now these ones, birthed from the ones that caused the incident, had the heat stomach in working order.

They used their newfound freedom in these temperate lands to destroy and proliferate. Under the new Class system, this would be known as the only Class 5 Infestation in recent memory. By then, the Union had realized they were facing catastrophe. They pulled their resources to assemble a team more ruthless and cunning than all the roaming Emboar combined. They were given license to do _anything_ that was necessary in pursuit of total extermination. The hardest, most effective tamers, soldiers and Rangers gathered into one division, working as a single organism under the leadership of one Steel Finger, the coldest man alive.

In a matter of months, the task was complete. When all was said and done, it cost no less than the lives of twelve thousand animal beings, six hundred human beings and billions of mark in damage. Some of it committed by the very team assembled to fight against the scourge. It would be argued that had the Union been a fraction too late in their resolve, the damage might have been incomprehensibly worse.

And that was Infestation 98. A small, solitary article on the conveyor belt of history. It was far from the only incident of this nature, but it has certainly been the biggest in our time thus far.

The Death Squad remained operational, swiftly dealing with any insurgent PDA as soon as they reared their heads. Still, if we take a peek beyond the headlines, we can see plenty of incidents, only smaller in scale.

Rodrick's Bank was burnt to the ground after an Ekans breeder failed to cage his animals and the creatures nested in a nearby wood. Hundreds of acres of land up in flame, hundreds of animals dead, one human being dead.

Winston Allstar used unlicensed hormones and illegitimate training routines on his animal trained for arena combat, resulting in injured human opponents, dead animal opponents.

In Garden… well, I'll bet you already know what I'm going to say, don't you?

You see, what I'm trying to get at is this: animals are dangerous. They breed, they take back our land, they impede our progress, they damage and kill. Society will always need men like us to keep them in check. But, the vital piece we conveniently overlook is that it is us who make them dangerous.

Behind every story like this, you'll find a catalyst in the human machine. This whole shebang with the Graveler, well, it's no different…

* * *

A grim procession ascended into the highlands. At its peak trudged Alec the tamer, head bent, chewing on his cuticles. One spot behind was Golem the new Alpha, struggling along doggedly. Behind them trailed a herd of Graveler, stretching back to a point on the horizon. Their storming footsteps overpowered all sound, leaving a massive cloud of dust in their wake, advertising their location for miles around. Alec had been wondering for the better part of the journey why the Squad had not seized them yet, expecting them to spring at every turn. They had been on the trail for better than three hours and the sun was well in the sky.

At last, they reached the foothills of the Lapis. Grey, snow-capped mountains loomed above. Alec was baffled at just why the hell he was on the verge of breaking down in tears. That thing was a monster. It killed purely out of bloodlust. It cared for nothing but destruction. It had caused him no end of ordeals, it literally ruined his career. Yet, it had been there since the beginning. He watched it develop from a young, rambunctious quadruped to a proud, erect fighter, capable of taking on the best (and kill the rest). It was a monster he had created. No. Not him. Winston Allstar. Allstar and his beast were a nasty pairing if there ever was one. And yet, as Allstar waned and faded away, the beast remained the only thing it could ever be. Alec supposed he must have loved it.

They treaded along open fields and swards to cause minimal ecological damage, but he knew there was little that could be done. Some inhuman factor had caused the Graveler to multiply beyond natural bounds and they were poised to destroy every bit of land they walked on, owing to their heavy bodies. Fact of the matter was, he felt sorry for them now that the job was done and the threat diminished. They likely came to be in their position through no fault of their own, as was usually the case in these scenarios.

It was only the presence of Garden that made the Graveler dangerous. Yet, he had once again acted as the hand of humanity and brought destruction to their doorstep. Only a thinly veiled façade eased this dreary thought. He was sure to be the lesser of two evils.

They passed a run-down farmhouse amidst a grassy turf. Nature had reclaimed the better part of it, yet a tall, thatched barn roof remained suspiciously intact. It stood on beams cut from local tree trunks and reached well above the height of the abandoned house. What was more, there were large footprints embedded deep in the soil. Leading the herd of a hundred Graveler made further investigation impossible, but it made him seriously consider a theory he'd been knocking around since he commenced the trek. There is seldom a horde this immense without a proper horde leader. The Alpha Graveler verged on disability - there must have been something more leading the Graveler from the shadows. Alec recalled the mysterious fog which had inconveniently sprung up during parts of the misadventure. Could it have been artificial? He once again recalled the circus, the snow-white Vulpix breathing in air, blowing out clouds. It was possible some force was manipulating events behind the scenes.

After a few minutes, the Graveler reached the abandoned farm. Alec watched over his shoulder as they trampled the remains of the farm, upturning the trunk pillars their wake, bringing the roof down with them.

It was nearly midday by the time the helicopters descended on them. Ropes were lowered to a slope ahead. A formation of well-armed dark Squadmen slid down expertly and took up positions behind cover, readying their weapons. Alec had expected them to take on their flanks as well. The fact they hadn't was a good sign. Among them stood the woman herself.

She made no attempt at concealing herself. A rifle barrel jutted up above her head.

"Recoil on that's gotta be one hell of a bastard," he yelled at her, reminded of the rifle he'd used at the battle biting into his wounded arm. She couldn't hear him. Nothing carried over the sounds of two hundred Graveler feet bombarding the earth.

Alec motioned Golem to stay. The Graveler followed suit, attuned to Golem as their leader. Stillness rippled through the horde, bodies bumping into one another until eventually, there was peace.

"Stand down, Regulator. We are taking over the perimeter, as well as the PDA at your command." Theresa's voice boomed.

Alec thought about that. "Mmmm. I don't think so," he said casually.

"Repeat. Stand down. Winston Alec, you are deemed to have committed criminal action by a Union representative. The land you walk is temporarily under jurisdiction of the Union. You are a danger to yourself and the environment. Therefore, it is up to us to take drastic measures, with legal merit, if you do not relinquish control of the PDA at your command."

Her voice had lost the vindictive iron. Something must have gotten to her, because now her words were weaponized formality. They came down to a basic message: give yourself in or die.

Alec decided to call her out on her bluff.

He clicked his tongue, flicking a finger at Golem. They walked forward, the horde grumbling to a start. Almost immediately, squadmen in assault gear sprung from cover, fixating their barrels on him.

Alec walked on.

"This is your last warning," Theresa squawked, voice cracking. Alec was sure if the entirety of the Squad possessed Theresa's brutality, he'd have been dead by now. He was close enough to see the eyes of her men through their helmet visors. They must have realized Theresa was mad as a meataxe. The situation was precarious as all hell. A single wounded exterminator was leading a colossal horde of animals they themselves had been sent to dispatch. Shooting him down would incur a flashpoint.

He passed the first set of men, sure he was about to piss himself. Perspiration gleamed on their faces. They kept their arms trained on him, but let him pass.

Theresa's eyes burned hatred. "Shoot. The man. Do-"

"Shoot me down," shouted Alec, overpowering her. "And I bring the mountain down on your asses."

He found himself standing in their midst, face to face with the woman. She trembled with rage. "Finally resorting to threats, are we, my dear Winston," she spluttered.

He laughed. "Thought I'd take inspiration from your toolkit."

Theresa brought up one clenched fist. "Give yourself in, Winston. I've already got you on assault and misconduct. How long do you wish your list of crimes to be?"

"You've got me on shit," said Alec simply. "As I recall it, you were the ones who assaulted me and my trained animal without cause."

"Excuse me?"

"You proceeded to use destructive weapons, as well as assaulting and locking me up personally. For what? Have you an ounce of proof of my wrongdoing?"

Theresa chuckled at that. "There's two of your little friends we gave a lift to the hospital on your behalf."

"They were too inexperienced to handle an animal of its level. I will foot any necessary reparations; however, I doubt I am liable for their injuries."

"Oh, yes. Whatever happened to that monster of yours anyway? Bit the dust?" It took Alec all the willpower in his being not to punch her back right then. He breathed in deep and calmed down while she grinned her devilish, winning smile. The worst part about it was, he found it kind of charming.

"Doesn't matter. I've completed the contract with non-existent casualty before you arrived at the location. That means your authority here is void."

"Excuse me, sir," a large Squadman approached from the side. As he did, Golem immediately turned, blocking his way, giving him a warning grate. A hundred Graveler gazes turned on him. "I, uh, I meant to speak my mind, sir." He shrank back, likely to be desperately regretting his speaking up.

"Quiet, officer," barked Theresa. "You were not given permission to speak. As for you," she glared at Alec, "I'm giving you one last chance to comply. The Union high martial may decide your fate."

"Or what?" He shouted back, shocked at the venom in his voice. "The way I see it, you're the one refusing to comply with procedure. History belongs to the winners and you need to learn when to lose. I'll see you at high martial after I'm done reporting you for abuse of power!"

He'd let the anger get the better of him. That one went too far and he knew it even before Theresa unlimbered that huge rifle. Her underlings had no choice but to back her. In the span of a breath, all weapons were pointed. Alec subconsciously flicked his wrist at Golem, who was all ready to bounce. The horde stirred.

"Now, now, kids. I'd say you're just a tad too old for these antics." A liver-spotted hand lowered Theresa's rifle. An old man with a snowy white beard appeared from behind. He bore the Rangers' orange. On his face was the most unexpectedly pleasant smile. He sauntered in their midst, breaking them up like they were kids at the playground.

Alec looked around frantically to see every man lowering their weapon. Everyone but her.

"History belongs to the winners? You think that's it, Winston? You think I'll let it end?" She flicked her weapon upright, the man's hand still gripping it.

"Now, now, Captain. I think you'll find it best for everyone to lay that down right now." Said the man, still pleasantly, but firmly.

Theresa trembled, exposing her teeth, that tiny little gap making her look all the more deranged. Her body shuddered. Golem flinched. She pitched the rifle in the dirt.

At once, Alec heard the men all around sigh. Just like that, the tension diffused and relief was palpable. Alec unclenched the jaw he hadn't known was clenched and his head heaved with pain. One hell of a stress migraine was on its way.

"Good grief. Do all you young people just point guns at problems before you try fixing them?" The mystery man groaned, scratching his beard.

Only then did the connection flash. "I know you," said Alec to the bearded man. "You're Garden's rightful Ranger. Herbert."

The Ranger smiled, but there was no mirth in his eyes. "That's me, alright. You're Winston Alec, the Exterminator."

"I'd like to ask my permission to speak now," said the Squadman from before, looking impatient and not a little unnerved.

Before Theresa could hiss him silent, Herbert shined a grin his way. "Sure, son. Speaking is what we're here for, isn't it?"

"I'll be frank in saying we're unprepared to deal with these numbers, on this terrain, at this moment. Carrying out the Captain's will would be suicide. That being said," he fixed his eye on Alec. "We cannot leave the situation in the control of an unknown variable."

Frankness of this nature might have been tantamount to subversion of authority in a normal situation, but Theresa's rule had been compromised. Alec could see her fuming, yet there was little she could do. From their faces alone, he saw the rest of the men agree.

"The young man makes a fine point, Mr. Alec. You may be an Exterminator, but what gives you the right to take control of a dire situation in the face of a highly trained squad of proper Rangers? Unless you have a plan, of course," said Herbert.

"Yeah. I do." Said Alec firmly, followed by a pregnant pause.

Herbert stretched his hands to the sky. "Well, that settles it then. I don't know about you, but I've had the misfortune of missing my previous two lunchtimes, and I'd rather not miss another."

The squadman gawped. "You trust this fool?"

"Why not," said the old Ranger. "If he's good enough to bring a hundred of the bloody beasts under his control, he's good enough to know what to do with 'em."

Theresa cut in. "You leave at my say. The Squad does not relent until the mission is complete."

"Mission?" Said Herbert. "I recall ol' Buck Garden himself telling the lot of you off after you were rude enough to pester him at breakfast. The village has had it all under control since before you came."

Alec almost laughed, yet he managed to hold himself back. The village came through for him after all.

"Oh?" Spat Theresa. "Is that why we had to pick you up off a mountain you crawled on to call for help?"

"Ah, that," said Herbert, as if remembering some trivial detail from years ago. "I must say I wouldn't have done the same had I known you were about to bring flamethrowers on my doorstep. Come on, let's leave this regrettable business behind us already."

Alec couldn't agree more. He was tired. So tired. He decided not to wait. The first foot planted itself forward before he had the chance to stop it. Golem followed right behind, as if it had waited for that very moment. With them, the horde began to move, from the first row to the last.

Theresa fixed her gaze on Alec as he passed her. "You're a reckless idiot and one day you _will _pay for it."

Alec said nothing. He could hardly disagree.

"Captain," one of her retreating men said. "Let's get the hell out of here before we get trampled to death."

* * *

He let the first batch of Graveler go as soon as he reached the mountains. Golem blasted them with a shrill, ear-piercing roar and dispersed them across the plain. The two dozen of them tripped over their own bodies in their rapid escape and were out of sight. After an hour of rest, he went on and released the second pack three hours later, twenty kilometers to the northeast. At that point, he circled around on his path to the east, then southeast where he gradually released the remaining Graveler. This would ensure the animals would not reform their horde to cause havoc ever again, though the area would need to be closely watched for a while. Alec supposed Herbert seemed trustworthy enough for the job, though he had his doubts about Berk.

The events of the stand-off in the foothills replayed over and over in his mind. Most importantly, the thing that happened just at the end. As Theresa's lot were leaving and the Graveler were moving into gear, Herbert grasped him by the shoulder, as if in a friendly gesture, and whispered in his ear: X953 Y544. Then he joined with the rest of them.

It had taken Alec longer than it should have to figure out they were map coordinates. With no latitude and longitude involved, he could only have been referring to a local map. A whole load of good it would do him now that he'd given his phone away to the rookie Ranger. Still, he knew the number had to be referring to the outskirts, right around the quarry site, which was the path he was headed through anyway.

Before he knew it, it was night and he found himself scattering the last of the Graveler bunch. It all went without a hitch. The Graveler had bore witness to Golem's show of power and followed his every command. As for Golem itself, it remained the loyal creature Alec had raised it to be. He was flushed with a certain amount of pride.

After that, they walked the forested paths back alone in the night. His entire body was sore from the two-day ordeal, during which he'd barely slept or eaten. Not to mention he was getting old. He was almost in his fourties, no longer the all-capable young man he used to be.

When he passed the quarry each and every step felt like it was bound to be his last. He noticed a roof over the trees. A path wended his way to a shack in woods. The door was locked, but the bench next to it was too inviting to pass. He laid his sorry bones down on it and fell into a slumber.

What felt like minutes later, he was startled up by an aggressive growling. He stood sharply, groping at the empty air on the belt of his pants where he'd kept the Injector. Golem positioned itself ahead of him, arms up to fight. It seemed sluggish itself, likely woken from stupor as Alec was. Soon, the cause of their arousal revealed itself. A Mamoswine, tall as the trees, thick as a truck, burst through the bushes, flattening growth in its wake. It shook its tusks defensively against Alec's protector. It was unlikely Golem could take on an opponent that size in its state, but it displayed a sufficient amount of deterrence. The Mamoswine huffed, making a wide berth around them, disappearing into the wood.

Whatever significance that event held, Alec was prepared to let it rest until morning. He lay his head back on the hard wood bench when it hit him. _This _was where the old Ranger had pointed him to.

At last, the final piece of the puzzle had revealed itself. Found only in arctic climates in nature, Mamoswine fit the description of a large, powerful mon able to control the Graveler horde. The inherent compatibility with the Graveler was tenuous, but its sheer strength must have overpowered any resistance the lesser creatures might have grudged.

Alec decided he was going all the way back anyways. "I reckon we should go on as well," he mused aloud. "No doubt they have better beds prepared for us heroes back in Garden."

Something had dropped in his mind. He recalled the events of yesterday evening, before his first encounter with the Death Squad. He was in the Hutt, Samanthe's inn, examining a wall covered with old photos. "That's my old man," she had said. "Used to run a couple farms…" In the picture, mud-covered animals clustered at her father's boots.

They had been little baby Swinub.

* * *

One last bitter task still lied in front of him, but it could wait until morning. Alec emerged through the trees onto Jackal Street, then started straight through the abandoned buildings and cut over the empty patch of grass that separated it from the rest of town. Golem followed obediently at his heels.

"Dear buddy, how I've missed you," he told it.

It was way past midnight, but there were many houses brightly lit. The air carried drunken songs of celebration, folk triumphing at the saving of their village. If headman Buck was right, good times would soon be upon them. It brought a smile to Alec's tired face. He snuck through the streets with Golem in tow and made his way to the Ranger Depot-shed. Golem hacked apart the padlock on his command with the last of its strength.

Once inside, Alec located protein medication and potent calcium gel. He spent a good twenty minutes lathering up Golem's broken plates of armor, then rested on the old, mangy sofa someone had placed in between the dusty cabinets and work desk. He closed his eyes for a minute and woke up to sunlight glinting through the shack boards.

* * *

"Mornin', princess," said Herbert. He sat on the sleeping boulder that was Golem. "I brought you a present." He flicked a little red-striped boxed on Alec's chest.

"Forget it. I quit," said Alec and tucked the cigarettes in his pocket.

"Courtesy of our town lady, Miss Samanthe Chandle," he smiled as he had the day before.

"Miss Chandle, huh?" Said Alec. "That reminds me. I've got to see her as soon as possible."

"Ah, to be young," said Herbert. "You fall in love so fast." Hearing Alec speak, Golem rose from his slumber and shook the old Ranger off his hump.

Alec stretched his aching sore limbs. "Thanks, old man. For yesterday. Things between me and Theresa might have turned ugly if you hadn't stepped in."

The Ranger chuckled affably. "Calling the Cap by her first name? I wonder about that."

Alec had no interest in sharing his history with the Ranger, but decided he could at least offer an explanation. "We had a… fling," _that lasted eight months _"many years ago."

Herbert whistled. "I knew you were into taming monsters, Mr. Allstar, but…" He nodded encouragingly. "To think that back there was nothin' but an everyday lovers' spat…"

"It was nothing like that," said Alec, feeling doubly exasperated. He should have known Herbert would recognize him by his ancient pseudonym. "Theresa has no grudge against me. She just thinks I'm irresponsible. Hell, she's right. I wasn't surprised to see her promoted to Death Squad Captain a year ago." He got off the couch and rifled through the old cabinets. He snatched up a pair of jeans, an Orange jacket and a shirt. "I'll be taking these, if you don't mind."

"You help yourself. I'll bet us Gardeners are gonna let you take off with just about anything you ask for."

As he was getting dressed, he noticed his wounded arm stung badly, so he took some bandages and put it in a haphazard sling. Motioning Golem to follow, he went out the shack.

"Leaving already? I've got coffee in the percolator," the old fart said.

"Thanks. I'm on urgent business." Alec had no interest in dilly dallying with the Ranger. The whole ordeal had left him exhausted and all he wanted to do was get home and have a nice shower. There was bound to be some loose ends left dangling. He'd have to sort out the whole business with Larry and Jane, too. If he didn't act nice and apologetic and bring them flowers in the hospital… it was unlikely, but possible the range would sue. _Another day, another annoyance._

"Wait just a sec," Herbert said, stopping him. "That Orange suits you mighty fine, young man. We got a position open for Garden village Ranger, y'know. Ever thought of taking up a career change?"

Alec turned to face the man. "What about Berk?"

"Berk is shit. I could use a good hand."

Alec sighed plainly.

"You've had a wild life, if I'm to believe the TV. And you look just about beaten down to hell. At your age, you ought to be considering settling down in a nice, peaceful place. You can't keep that body of yours running high forever. We got plenty of nice bachelorettes in Garden…"

"Old man," Alec broke in, barely keeping his mounting horror hidden. "Not a chance in hell."

He held the door behind him, about to close.

"That's fine," said Berk. "I don't think a silver-tongued liar is a good fit for a Ranger anyhow."

Alec turned around. "You what?"

"I heard about it from Buck. Y'see, after the Squad kindly lifted me from the mountain I climbed to pick up a signal, we landed on the Balder Heights platforms. The local Depot supplied them with land vehicles – the one they imprisoned you in included – and our next destination was Garden. After a minor kerfuffle at the rock wall out of town, we arrived in early morning. The Squad faced the villagers, who had somehow made up their minds to make life difficult for the very Rangers that had been sent to save them. I was not a little intrigued at this, so I went to Buck and I asked. He told me that the Exterminator they had hired gathered them all down in the auditorium, telling them to hold back the big, angry Squad until he deals with the few dozen or so beasts in the hills."

Alec felt the blood draining from his face.

"Well, imagine my surprise when I saw you at the head of that remuda, counting a hundred head or more. And I thought to myself, this one is a devil," Herbert faced him gravely. His smile grew wider, yet his eyes went hard. "You're lucky your plan came through, Mr. Alec, or you would have thoroughly fucked us all."

"Oh, good morning, Mister Alec," a pleasant voice said outside.

Alec stared at the old Ranger's grim countenance. "I should go."

"Yes, I think you should. By the way, I'm assuming you've checked out the shack I sent you to?"

Alec shut the door behind him.

Clara sat on a bench in the street. "I've been waiting for you to wake up."

Alec did not try to figure out how the lady knew he was there. "Morning, doctor," he said, not particularly interested in conversation, but he liked the old lady.

"Clara, please. The folk missed you yesterday evening, you know? Everybody was up way past their bedtime celebrating. Now they're all asleep and I'm afraid they'll miss you. You _are _planning to leave soon, correct?"

"I've done my job," he said simply.

"I understand."

"I do have a final errand to run in town."

"That was obvious. Let me accompany you."

And that was that. Alec tried to return her husband's clothes but she contended he'd look better in them than her husband's ghost would. After she insisted on examining his arm and professionally reapplying the sling, they made their way silently through the morning, admiring the quaint little streets of Garden. Though the picturesque morning view of the mountains was somewhat spoiled by the night's previous events. Golem trailed along, its injuries making him stumble frequently. It didn't look to be fatally wounded but all things considered, it wasn't looking good. Alec wondered how he was going to get it to his power van. If it was still there, anyhow.

Finally, the Hutt came into view.

"This is where I stop," he said.

"I see. Thank you on behalf of my village for all you've done, and thank you on my own behalf for the lovely company. I'm sorry to have doubted you."

"I probably wouldn't have been able to do it without your help, er, Clara."

"Don't flatter me. I have a final demand from you."

Alec raised his eyebrows.

"Leave the poor creature with me."

"What? You mean Golem?"

"Yes. He's clearly injured and needs looking after. You'll have a hard time trekking him back the way you came and I'm in want of company. I'll send him back to the ranch when he heals. I'm sure the folk of Garden will be generous to their animal hero."

Alec looked at Golem. It was an obedient creature. He was sure it wouldn't mind.

The Exterminator shrugged. "He's yours."

* * *

"Welcome back, savior," said Samanthe. She smiled radiantly in the midst of her bar. She swabbed a heavy-looking broom in her hands. Her hair was quite messy and she looked tired out.

"Looks like you had good business yesterday," Alec replied. The place was a mess. All the chairs were either upturned or broken, empty bottles rolled around on the floor.

"Post-crisis eras in society are often accompanied by…" she bent over to pick up an empty boot on the floor. "…economic spurts."

"Seems like all's well that ends well in Garden," said Alec. Now that he was here, it seemed almost awkward. He looked over at the wall of pictures. All the puzzle pieces seemed to fit, but he still didn't have a clue as to how.

The door flapped on its shutters and Altaria swooped though, landing in the middle of the room carefully, barely touching anything. Samanthe put down the broom and stroked its chin. "I'm glad it's all over with. Really." Her deep eyes fixed themselves on him. There was genuine sincerity in them. Alec was no lie detector, but her relief was genuine. Just what in the hell was going on in this crooked town?

"I presume you're here for your payment negotiations. Your actions to defend our town went above and beyond the agreed upon terms, therefore I think it's natural the town should provide a payment indicative of-"

"That's not why I'm here."

"Eh?"

"I've had a lot of time to think yesterday and there's something I've come up with. I've got to say it to you right now, so you understand."

Something changed on Samanthe's face. She straightened her shoulders and her eyes narrowed. Alec once again caught a glimpse of that harrowing sadness brewing inside. "Go on," she said solemnly.

He flipped open the lid on his new cigarette box and Samanthe tossed him a lighter. He caught it with a slap. Popping a cig into his mouth and lighting it, he took a deep breath, then a puff of smoke wafted to the ceiling. Alec closed his eyes and began.

"You hear a lot about dangerous animals on TV these days. Road blockades, attacks, 'terrorism' in previously safe, intact neighborhoods. Families move out. Injuries are sustained. People die, yes, sometimes…"

As he talked, Samanthe stood still as a statue, propped up against a barroom desk. He talked about the things she had heard about, although distant and almost out of memory. His voice was deep and well past hoarse.

Events from the news that had come and gone. Of course, the striking exception in the marvelous irrelevance was Garden. He mentioned it as if it was the same, another item on the ever-moving conveyor belt of history. Yet Garden was still here. It was still standing. As it should, she had rebuilt it with her own two hands. The thought of losing it made her want to go crazy.

"Behind every story like this, you'll find a catalyst in the human machine. This whole shebang with the Graveler, well, it's no different…"

The trajectory of his words was clear to her then. It was winded and confusing, but it had a point. A meaning specially for her.

"Stop!" She yelled out, covering her ears. "I can't listen anymore. Please. Just tell me. You know, don't you?"

He leveled his gaze at her. "You want me to cut to the chase, right?" He flicked away the stump of cigarette, thoughtlessly bouncing it against the inner trashcan lid. "Altaria, use Mist!"

Altaria frightened at hearing its name commanded. It swiveled at Samanthe, who nodded dolefully.

It opened its large beak eerily, glass eyes unblinking. The creature's chest expanded, then white smoke curled at its beak. Alec sat on a chair and watched in silence as the clear air around the bird coalesced into a ball of haze. The smoke was not so much rising from its body as it was converting itself all around. Like a viral infection, the creature spurred a chemical reaction in the surrounding air from where the ball of haze would begin to spread. Just like the Vulpix circus act.

"Awfully exotic trick," said Alec.

"Is that it? I'm a business woman, Mr. Alec! My reach extends beyond the small borders of Garden. I would be hard pressed to explain to you the situations I find myself in."

The air was getting whiter and whiter. He could hardly still see Samanthe's face. She said something to Altaria whisperingly and the creature flew out, dragging tails of mists in its wake. Alec thought this would be the perfect time to light another cigarette.

"When I was first walking to Garden, I was set upon by an unnatural haze that sprang up around me as I was making my way through the forest. Half an hour later, I ran into you and Herbert's incompetent apprentice. Altaria was with you then. A while later I was making my way to the Graveler nest, still unaware of the scale of danger I was facing. Again, I was beset by heavy mists which amassed way too fast for it to be natural. Thanks to those mists, I blundered straight into a pack of Graveler. Golem and myself both survived by the skin of our teeth."

He couldn't distinguish Samantha's expression through the settling mist, but it felt good to be dragging on a cigarette again. "In between those encounters, I found a trail of human footprints near one of the Graveler breeding sites. They lead straight to the edge of an abandoned warehouse roof on Jackal Street, then disappeared. Somebody was there, among the Graveler and vanished into thin air like a phantom. Are you still following me?"

Samanthe was still for a while before she replied. "Yes, I'm with you, Exterminator."

Alec was unsettled by her attitude. "I didn't know what to make of it until I came upon a shack in the woods near the old quarry, where I was greeted by a Mamoswine. Those aren't creatures you normally find wandering around, unless you live in the artic. Their young, however, are sometimes used for meat production by adventuring farmers. Such as your father, for example." He looked pointedly to the wall of pictures. They were covered by fog, but Samanthe took his meaning.

"You, Samanthe, raised that creature. You used it to control the Graveler. The evidence is your footprints on Jackal Street. The Graveler must have backed you into a corner, prompting you to flee using Altaria. I have no doubts that large bird could carry a frail woman like yourself off a rooftop. When I went to investigate their nest, you used Altaria's Mist to make me lost direction. You wanted to prevent me from discovering their true numbers. You knew all along." He stared into her eyes resolutely, hoping to pin her down. As the mists diffused, Alec thought he'd see guilt or sorrow on her face. But her true expression surprised him.

She had a look of pure determination. "Yeah. You've got it down pat."

"But I don't understand why! Why did you gather up the Graveler? Why did you manipulate them into smashing the antenna and put up roadblocks? What had you to gain?"

"You're making the wrong supposition, Mr. Alec."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is this: I had absolutely nothing to gain."

He pushed his chair close to hers and stubbed his second cigarette. "So the Graveler just moseyed their way here on their own?"

"The hole."

"Eh?"

She swiped at her shimmering hair. "You must have seen it. The big cave at the quarry. The one that shut it down all those years ago."

There had been many pressing events taking place at the quarry site these last few days, yet the dark abyss had a way of grabbing his attention.

"I'd be hard pressed not to have seen it."

"There was quite an accident when the quarry wall first gave and the cave opened up. My father was there, delivering rations from the farm when it happened. Some of the drillers, local men, were at work on the wall, when suddenly the rock cracked loose and it all collapsed. There was a landslide that killed almost ten people and injured thirty. The quarry, Garden's raison d'etre closed and the local economy went belly-up. The rock was deemed too loose and the big crack in the wall was glaring proof of it. Weeks later, old headman Buck's oldest son, Blake Garden committed suicide. He had been manager of operations. There weren't many people in town the accident left unscathed. Not least of which was my father."

She buried her face in her hands. "Papa was never the same after he came home that day. Physically, he was unharmed, but the scars were deep inside him still. He stopped paying attention to the farm like he used to. Some days, I just watched him sitting on the porch of our old farmhouse, gazing off into the distance all day. Then he found that damned old deserted shack. The quarry was fenced off well when it was still deemed dangerous, but he found a way in. He would spend days, weeks, sitting in that shack, ritually pilgrimaging to the crack in the rock wall. Father was drawn to it, somehow. It was an obsession. Eventually, the crack widened, revealing a shallow system of caves within. It was searched by explorers, and they found something inside."

Alec crossed his hands and furrowed his brows. It was clear he had been right, but he still had no idea how any of it connected. "What does this have to do with the Graveler?"

"Well, the something that was found in the quarry cave was an old fossil. A big, well-preserved fossil. It was unlike anything scientists had ever seen. When it was carted off piece by piece for study, my old man got arrested for attacking the drivers who led the trucks away. He didn't want them taking anything away from his sacred cave. Still, even as it was empty, he just kept coming back every day. Just sitting there in the cool, empty air and sleeping in the shack at night. One week, we found his absence particularly worrying. Mother and I went looking. We'd known where he went. He wasn't in his shack, so we knew he must have gone inside. We found him on the cavern floor. He'd slipped and smashed his dim-witted head in."

When she removed the hands from her face, Alec saw it was covered with tears. The story she was telling seemed too strange to believe, but something told him she was telling the truth. It was because he'd seen the cave and felt its presence.

"His swine had grown, though, and often repeated father's pilgrimage to the cave. Officially, we had sold our livestock, but father insisted on keeping one he'd taken a liking to. It had exceeded its legal size, so I had to keep it hidden myself after he died. I was the only relic of those young, happy days I had left. The cave seemed a convenient enough place. Then came the problem. Mamoswine wasn't the only animal who was drawn to the cave."

Alec startled. "You don't mean?!"

"You brought a Rock monster here, didn't you? You brought it here to take the Graveler under its control so you could disperse them, right? Well, the same principle applies to the hole. When an animal feels the presence of a superior, they are drawn to them. To oblige them. Their need is irresistible. There must be more bones hidden under the rock somewhere, bones of ancient creatures so great, they drew crowds of worshippers to their graves millions of years after their deaths."

"You're telling me what attracted Graveler to Garden were fucking dinosaur bones?!"

Samanthe smiled dryly. She was implacable. "Yes. I brought feed to Mamoswine one day, and found him at the mouth of that cave, surrounded by a dozen Graveler. They seemed aggressive, but my swine had put them under control. I found two of their carcasses nearby. From then on, they seemed content to let Mamoswine into their midst, even deferring to it, as if it were their pack leader. The presence of the cave united them."

"And still, you kept mum."

"By the time I discovered the gravity of that error, it was too late. More Graveler arrived and nested before the abandoned quarry. They also begun to mate. There was hardly anything I could have done. I knew sooner or later everything would be found out, but I couldn't bring myself to report it."

"So the roadblocks and the destruction of the antenna were all a big coincidence? They were marking their fucking holy ground?! But then why did you try to prevent me from finding the cave with Altaria's Mist?"

The mist in the room had evaporated. He could finally see Samanthe's pretty face. Only it didn't seem so pretty now. There was an unsettling shadow cast over it. She giggled menacingly.

"What?" Alec stood up from his chair, not unalarmed.

"Don't you get it? I couldn't let you find it. I knew what would happen as soon as somebody figured out what it does. Yet you went one step beyond. You destroyed it!" There were tears streaming down her face. The chairs on the floor began to tremble.

"You," said Alec. "That cave doesn't only attract animals and beasts. I've felt its pull, just like your pops did. And it's got you too."

Samanthe laughed. A shrill, despairing laugh. The walls began to shake around them. Something was wrong. "You destroyed everything! And now you're taking me away from Garden! You're killing everything I've ever loved!"

The bar was in an earthquake. Chairs that had been standing upright turned over and quaked on the floor. A table keeled over and the flat board split itself in two, rolling away from the base. Heavy, stampeding footfalls approached from the direction of the woods.

Suddenly, something flashed toward him. It was Samanthe, spearing him with the heavy broom she had wielded as he came in.

"Urp?" He managed before the heft got him in the stomach and he was knocked against the wall.

"Altaria!" Samathe screamed. The creature blitzed inside like lightning. Samanthe grabbed a hold of it and slapped its rump. She was promptly yanked off the ground and the two escaped from the building through a shattered window. Alec could barely get himself up on his knees, everything was trembling so bad. Through a window facing off into the forest, he saw a creature galloping toward the place. It was the Mamoswine.

He leapt for the open door, before the entire wall caved at once, showering him with debris as he crawled through the threshold, a pair of giant tusks swinging destructively above. He climbed on his feet and ran. Golem stumbled toward him, Clara huffing a pace behind. She was leading a posse of alarmed villagers, including Herbert himself.

Alec whirled and witnessed the Hutt collapsing. Half the building was chunked off. The rest caved itself in on its insufficient base and went down into a crumbled pile, a pillar of dust settling above. Alec hurried back to it, Golem keeping up at his heel.

The Mamoswine was already racing for the trees. Samanthe soared the skies above, making a clean getaway. Nothing could get to her in time now.

"Crazy bitch," Alec mouthed, fingering a cigarette.

He turned to the villagers who waited on the edge of the disaster zone.

"Nothing to see here, move along." Just another failure to cap off the mad adventure. He motioned Golem to stay put with Clara, clicking his tongue.

Then, without another word, he cut through the bewildered crowd, hiked to the battered van still waiting for him on the other end of the rock wall and made his last footfall in the village of Garden forever.


End file.
